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INCIDENTS AND EVENTS 



IN THE LIFE OF 



GUEDOjN SALTONSTALL HUBBARD. 



COLLECTED PROM PERSONAL NARRATIONS AND oTIIER SOURCES 
AND ARRANGED BY HIS NEPHEW, 

Henry E. Hamilton. 

1888. 



.3 



- r- 



Printers, Engravers and Electrotypers, 
Chicago. 






CONTENTS 



Childhood, - - ° 

Engagement with American Fur Company, 10 

Mackinaw, - -16 

Marquette Cross. . 31 

Chicago and Fort Dearborn, *" 

Mud Lake [sle La Cache and Starved Rock, 39 

Fori Clark, and Encounter with an Indian, 45 

St. Louis, - - 46 

Shaub-e-nee, Wa-ba and Che-mo-co-mon-ess, - 4!l 

57 
. GO 

76 



96 
106 



Tippecanoe Battleground, 
The Feast of the Dead. 
Muskegon Lake and a Month of Solitude, 

Lost in a Snow Storm. - 8 ? 

Death of D.ufrain, 95 
Kalamazoo River and Cosa, 
Wolf Stories, 

Attacked by an Indian. - 11,J ' 

Alexis St. Martin. 11T 

Sleeping Hear. - *~ 

Pa pa-ma-ta-be, - - 135 

From the St. Joseph to the Kankakee. 129 

Hubbard's Trail, . - - 1:i ' 

Under the he. - - 1;;S 

Trouble with Yellow Head, - ' ,,; 

Winnebago Scare. . - 14y 

In the Ohio River, and Letter of Dr. Fithian, l (il 

Ka-nekuck, . . 164 

Address of lion. ( Irani Goodrich, *■'* 

Memorial, - - - • 



The following pages are partly autobiographical, and 
partly compiled from the narrations of Mr. Hubbard, 
and from letters and other documents written during the 
years of which they treat. They make no claim to 
literary merit; neither do romance nor imagination have 
any place in the story. It is the simple recital of some 
events in the early life of Mr. Hubbard, winch show the 
many perils through which he passed and the various 
hardships which he endured. 

That these events occurred where great centres of 
civilization now exist, and during the lifetime of one 
man, seems stranger than fiction. 



SKETCH OF LIFE. 



CHILDHOOD — ENGAGEMENT WITH A.MKKK A.\ FUR CO. 

MACKINAW. 

I was born in Windsor, Vermont, August 2'2, 1S02. 
My father was Elizur Eubbard, the son of Gf-eorge Hub- 
bard, an officer in the war of the Revolution, and 
Thankful Hatch. My mother was Abigal Sage, daughter 
of General Comfort Sage and Sarah Hamlin, of Middle- 
town, Connecticut. 

My first recollection of events was the great eclipse of 
the sun about the year 1806, while walking with my 
mother in the garden. The impression made upon my 
mind by the strange and unnatural appearance of things 
has lasted to the present time. The white stage horses 
that were passing, to my vision appeared yellow, and 
looking up to my mother I discovered that her face also 
appeared yellow, as did all the surroundings. I was so 
frightened I did not recover from it for some time. 

I cannot remember at what age I commenced going to 
school, but the fact of a dislike for books, from that time 
up to the age of thirteen, I do not forget. I was always 
pleading to be excused, and my indulgent mother too 
often granted my request. I was often truant and escaped 
punishment. 

My father was, by profession, a lawyer, but having 
entered into some speculations about the year 1810, in 



6 

the fall of 1812 he lost his property, and my Aunt 
Saltonstall invited me to her house, and influenced her 
son-in-law, the Rev. Daniel Huntington, to take me and 
a boy of about my age to educate. 

Accordingly, in November of that year, I went to 
Bridge water, Massachusetts, and entered upon a course 
of studies, living in Mr. Huntington's family, where my 
aunt also resided. 

I was very deficient in my education, but the winter 
passed pleasantly and I made fair progress in my studies. 

My father's misfortunes continued, and he became 
very poor, which I felt so keenly as to make me miserable 
and discontented. I constantly pleaded to be permitted 
to return home, and when, in the following winter, I 
learned that my father had fallen into still deeper trouble 
and had determined to go to Montreal, there to practice 
his profession, I was inconsolable ; and as I had lost all 
interest in my studies, I was promised that I should re- 
turn home in the spring. 

In the middle of the month of April following I started 
for my home, and a few days' travel by coach brought me 
to my parents, and about the first of May, 1815, they, 
with their six children, of whom I was the eldest^ 
started for Canada. On reaching Montreal, my father 
learned that he could not be admitted to practice, as he 
was an American citizen, and by a new law of tlie 
Dominion a residence of live years would be required 
before he could be allowed to practice his profession. 
He, however, took a house and kept boarders, by which, 
with the fees he earned as consulting attorney, he re- 
ceived enough to barely support his family, never having 
a cent to sjDare beyond their necessary wants. 



My first winter there I employed in small traffic, buy- 
ing from Vermont farmers the remnants of their loads of 
poultry, butter, cheese, etc., and peddling them, from 
which I realized from eighty to one hundred dollars, all 
of which went into the family treasury. The capital 
with which I embarked in this enterprise was twenty-live 
cents, and was kindly loaned me by Horatio Gates. 

In the month of April, 1816, my father procured for 
me a situation in the hardware store of John Frothing- 
ham, where I received for my services my board only. I 
was the boy of the store — slept on the counter, worked 
hard, and attended faithfully to my duties, and thus won 
the good will of all the clerks. I had but one intimate 
friend outside of the store, named JohnDyde, whom I 
occasionally visited evenings. His father kept a board- 
ing-house, where Mr. William Matthews, agent of the 
American Fur Company, boarded. 

Mr. John Jacob Astor about this time instructed Mr. 
Matthews to engage twelve young men as clerks, and one 
hundred Canadian voyagers, and to purchase a quantity 
of goods for the Indian trade, to be transferred in batteaux 
manned by these voyagers, and to report therewith to 
Ramsey Crooks, manager a1 Mackinaw, Michigan. This 
expedition was to leave Montreal early in May, 1818, and 
to proceed as rapidly as possible to its place of destination. 

Visiting my friend Dyde one evening, lie told me of 
this, and that he was trying to prevail upon his father 
and mother to procure for him an engagement with the 
Fur Company as one of the twelve clerks. He bein-- 
then l»ut eighteen years old, his parents opposed it on 
account of his youth, and Mr. Matthews also dis- 
couraged tin- idea ; yet he continued his efforts, and 



8 

finally obtained their consent, and informed me of his 
good fortune. 

The expedition was the subject of frequent conversa- 
tions between us, and I also became desirous of being em- 
ployed ; my disposition to go increased each time we met, 
and I finally ventured to mention the subject to my father 
and mother, but they only laughed at the idea, saying- 
Mr. Matthews would not engage John, as he wanted men, 
and not boys ; that John was not eighteen and I not six- 
teen. And though I was thus put off, I was not wholly 
discouraged. 

Time passed on and April was near at hand. One 
morning John came into the store, his countenance 
beaming with joy, and announced that Mr. Matthews 
had promised to take him. "Oh!" said he, "I wish 
you could go with me, but it is of no use to try. It was 
hard work to induce Mr. Matthews to take me, because I 
was not old enough, and besides I am the twelfth, and 
the youngest by four years. I am to get one hundred 
dollars advanced to purchase my outfit." I don't know 
what induced me to make any further effort, but I still 
felt there was a chance. 

I could not help crying, and when West, the oldest 
clerk, inquired the cause, I told him. " Why, Gurdon," 
he said, "you don't want to go among the Indians. 
You could not endure the hardships. What a fool you 
are to think of it. Don't give it another thought. We 
all like you here. Stick by us, and rise as you will be 
sure to. Mr. Frothingham has not a word to say against 
you. He knows you have done your duty, and in time 
will advance you. So give up the idea." 

Just then Mr. Frothingham came in, and, noticing me, 



9 

asked what was the matter. ] did not reply, but cried. 
When Wesi told him, he said I had a foolish notion. 

I requested Leave of absence for the day and night to 
go home (my father then living a1 the foot of the 
mountain), which he granted. I was not long in reach- 
ing home, though it was about three miles. 

My father was not at home when I arrived, but 1 told 
my story to mother, and I thought she was not as strong 
in her opposition as former!}'. When father came I 
broached the subject to him, and he said 1 was crazy. I 
said, "Crazy or not, I want to go, and will if Mr. Mat- 
thews will take me," for which speech I received a rep- 
rimand. This, however, did not deter me. I kept on 
teasing for his permission until he finally said. "If your 
mother is willing, you can go and see Mr. Matthews.'* 
She put me off until morning. 

I suppose they had a consultation. Indeed, I know 
that they concluded that Mr. Matthews would reject me. 
They both knew him, and had both been to his office that 
day, where my father was employed in writing articles 
of agreement for the voyagers to sign. My father knew 
that Mr. Matthews had his full complement of clerks. 

In the morning I received permission from my parents 
to go and see Mr. Matthews, with the understanding 
that if he would engage me they would consent to my 
going. 

Now, the question was. how to approach Mr. Mat- 
thews, and I formed many plans, but finally, trusting to 
Mr. Dyde for an introduction, and getting him to get his 
parents to offer my services and intercede for me on the 
ground of my friendship for their son, an interview with 
Mr. Matthews was had. He told me that he had his 



10 

full complement of clerks and men engaged, and that I 
was really too young to go; but he finally said to me, 
' k If you can get your parents' consent I will engage you 
for five years and pay you one hundred and twenty dol- 
lars per year, more on account of John Dyde than any- 
thing else, as he wants you to go with him." I then 
knew the negotiation was ended, as I had my father's 
word, which never failed. 

I sought my father and reported, and he and my mother 
were sorely disappointed and grieved, but offered no 
further opposition. 

The agreement was soon thereafter signed, and I drew 
fifty dollars which my mother expended for my outfit. 
A part of my outfit consisted of a swallow-tail coat 
(the first I ever had) and pants and vest, all of which were 
much too large for me, and designed to be filled by my 
future growth. 

The clerks were allowed a small wooden chest in which 
to keep their outfit, for which the company charged them 
three dollars; the chest and contents weighed about sixty 
pounds. In one of these my wardrobe was packed, 
with other necessary articles prepared by my mother. 

Every preparation having been made for my depart- 
ure, I reported myself in readiness. 

Orders were issued for the voyagers to report on 
the 1st of May at Lachine, and the clerks were to 
report at the same place on the 13th of May, at ten 
o'clock a. m. 

Mr. Wallace, with three or four clerks, was detailed 
to take charge of the loading of the boats on May 1st. 

On the 13th of May, 1818, having bid adieu to my mother 
and sisters, I started with my father and brother for 



11 

Lachine, where I arrived about nine o'clock in the 
morning and reported for duty. 

The boats were all Loaded, the clerks and. voyagers were 
there, and many friends and relatives had assembled to bid 
them farewell; all were strangers to me, except my friend 
Dyde, Mr. Matthews and Mr. Wallace. 

To Mr. Wallace was assigned the duty of arranging the 
crews, and detailing the clerks to the different boats. 
Mr. Wallace was a Scotchman, and was one of a party 
who was sent by Mr. Astor to the Columbia River on an 
expedition which was broken up by the war of 1812. He, 
with others, returned overland; their vessel, having ben 
attacked by Indians, was blown up by one of the men on 
board. He w T as a man of large experience and of gr< 'at ener- 
gy and capacity, and, like most Scotchmen, was a strict dis- 
ciplinarian, with a powerful will and of undaunted courage. 

Though sixty-two years have passed since then, I dis- 
tinctly remember the animating and affecting scene pre- 
sented that morning. All being ready for the departure, 
it was announced that a half-hour would be given for 
leave-taking, and during that time every man was at 
liberty and under no restraint. Then came the parting 
embraces; tears and blessings being showered on all. 

Mr. Matthews had embarked in the largesl boat, which 
was gaily decorated, and manned by a picked crew of 
voyagers. 

The time for leave-takings having expired, Mr. Wallace, 
in a loud voice, gave the con una ml. "To boats all"; and in 
a few moments all hands were aboard and pushing oil' 
from the shore amid cheers and farewell shouts. 

The voyagers in Mi'. Matthews' boat started the boat 
song, which was joined in by all the voyagers and clerks 



12 

in the expedition. Stout arms and brave hearts were at 
the oars, and the boats fairly flew through the bine 
waters of the St. Lawrence Elver. 

My friend Dyde and myself had been assigned to the 
same boat, a favor we recognized as coming from Mr. 
Matthews. 

I cannot describe my feelings as I looked back upon 
the forms of my father and brother, from whom I was 
then about to be separated. Nor did I, until that time, 
realize my situation or regret my engagement. The 
thought that I might never again see those most dear to 
me rilled my soul with anguish. Bitter tears I could not 
help shedding, nor did I care to. 

When the boats stopped for lunch at noon, the clerks 
were invited to meet Mr. Matthews, and were then intro- 
duced to each other, Mr. Matthews making a short 
speech to them. 

Our lunch consisted of wine, crackers and cheese, and 
in a half -hour from the time of halting we resumed our 
journey. 

About four 0' clock in the afternoon we camped for the 
night. The clerks all messed with Mr. Matthews, in a 
mess-tent provided for the purpose. One small sleeping- 
tent was allotted to four clerks. 

The men had no shelter except tarpaulins, which, in 
stormy weather, were placed upon poles, thus forming 
a roof. Log fires were kindled at either or both ends, 
and each man was provided with one blanket. 

The voyagers kept their clothing and tobacco in linen 
or tow bags provided by the company for that purpose. 
The clerks were supplied with a thin mattress, upon 
which two slept, and a blanket each, and a small tarpau- 



13 

lin in which to roll up their mattress and blankets. The 
tarpaulin also served as a carpel for the tents. 

The men were fed exclusively upon pea soup and sail 
pork, and on Sunday an extra allowance of hard 
biscuit. The tables of the clerks were also supplied with 
salt pork and pea soup, and in addition thereto, \\ ii h tea, 
sugar, hard bread, and such meats as could be procured 
from time to time. 

All took breakfast at daybreak, and soon after sunrise 
the boats were under way. One hour w r as allowed at 
noon for dinner, and at sundown we camped for the 
night, which made a long day of hard work for the men, 
though they were occasionally allowed ten minutes " to 
pipe,'' i. e., to fill their pipes for smoking. 

Our boats were heavily laden, and our progress up the 
swift St. Lawrence was necessarily slow. Some days, 
when we had "rapids" to overcome, three to five miles 
was the full day's journey. And where the rapids were 
heavy, the crews of three, and sometimes four boats 
were allotted to one, seven or eight of the men being 
in the water, pushing and pulling and keeping the boat 
from sheering into the current. 

Two men remained in the boat, one in the bow, the 
other at the stern, with iron-pointed poles to aid the men 
in the water, and to steer and keep her bow heading the 
current, the rest of the men on the shore pulling on a 
rope which was attached to the bow. Yet with all this 
force, the current at times was so strong the boat would 
scarcely move; and the force of the current would raise 
the water to the very top of the " cut-water,'* and some- 
times even over the sides of the boat. 

On several occasions, the boat and men were dragged 



14 

back until they found an "eddy," when all would stop 
and rest for another effort This work was very severe 
on the men, they toiling from early morning until night, 
with only an hour's interval at noon, and an occasional 
respite while stemming a swift current. 

Great dissatisfaction prevailed among the voyagers, 
and, desertions becoming frequent, guards were estab- 
lished at night, consisting of the clerks; and yet scarcely 
a morning appeared that some were not missing. We, 
however, moved steadily along, making a daily average 
of about fifteen miles, we clerks, sauntering, whenever 
inclination led us, on the banks, or sometimes inland for 
several miles, stopping at houses occasionally and chat- 
ting with the inmates, where we were always cordially 
received, and often treated to the best they had. The 
news of the advancing brigade preceded us, and we found 
them fully posted as to our coming. At one time we 
received a pleasant visit from the late Hiram Norton, of 
Lockport, Illinois, who then resided on the St. Lawrence; 
and then began an acquaintance which in later years 
ripened into a warm friendship. 

Notwithstanding these excursions and the beauty and 
variety of the scenery through which we passed, our 
daily routine became extremely monotonous. We were 
about a month in reaching Toronto, then called "Little 
York," a small town of about three hundred inhabitants, 
mostly Canadian French. By this time the number of 
our men was greatly reduced by desertions, and Mr. 
Matthews began to fear that he would be obliged to leave 
some of the boats for want of crews. The hard work, 
however, was over, as from that point there was no more 
current to hinder our progress. Here Mr. Matthews 



15 

changed our route, and instead of passing through Lake 
Erie via Buffalo, as was intended, he hired ox teams, 
loading our goods in carts, and detailing most of the 
clerks to accompany them over to what was called 
"Youngs Street," to Lake Simcoe, where we encamped 
and remained some two weeks, until all our boats were 
hauled over and launched into that romantic little lake 
and reloaded. Two yoke of cattle wore also put on 
board one of the boats. We struck camp and proceeded 
to the other end, where the goods and boats, with the 
help of the oxen, made the Not-ta-wa-sa-ga portage, into 
the river of the same name. Though this portage was 
only six miles, we were a week conveying our goods 
and boats across. During this time wo were nearly 
devoured with mosquitos and gnats. We were in an 
uninhabited wilderness, with no road over the low swamp 
lands Desertion among the men had ceased, for the very 
good reason that there was no chance to escape. All 
rejoiced when we were again in our boats, and, with the 
current aiding us. swept down the winding course of the 
Nottawasaga River. The worst of the journey was now 
over, and with lightened hearts the voyagers again lifted 
their voices and joined in the melodious boat songs. 
We descended the river to Lake Huron, which we coasted. 

Early in the afternoon of the third of July we reached 
Goose Island, and camped in sight of Mich il-i-mac-i-nac, 
" The Great Turtle," the wind being too strong from the 
west to admit of our crossing the open lake. However, as 
the island abounded in gull's eggs, we spent an agreeable 
evening around our camp fires, feasting on them. 

As the lake was still rough, the morning of the fourth 
being too stormy to venture across, we devoted the time 



16 

to washing, and dressing in our best clothing, not so 
much in commemoration of the day, as of our joy at 
the sight of that beautiful island where our wearisome 
voyage was to end, thankful that we had been brought 
in safety, without accident, through so many difficulties 
and perils. We became so impatient at the delay that 
about two o'clock in the afternoon we started across, but 
the wind continued so high that the passage took about 
three hours, and we were unable to round the point of 
the island, but were compelled to land on the east side, 
at the foot of " Robinson's Folly." 

Here we were met by Messrs. Ramsey Crooks and 
Robert Stewart, the managers of the American Fur 
Company, together with a host of clerks and voyagers, 
who extended to us a cordial welcome, and thus we 
celebrated the fourth of July, 1S18. 

On this island lived old voyagers, worn out with the 
hard service incident to their calling, with their families 
of half-breeds. 

A few, only, of the inhabitants engaged in trade. Mrs. 
Mitchell, an energetic, enterprising woman, the wife 
of Dr. Mitchell, a surgeon of the English army, 
and stationed at Drummond's Island, had a store and 
small farm. Michael Dousman, Edward Biddle, and 
John Drew were also merchants, all depending on trading 
with the Indians. 

These merchants, to a very great extent, were under 
the influence of the American Fur Company, purchasing 
most of their goods from them, and selling to them their 
furs and peltries. This island was the headquarters of 
the American Fur Company, and here I first learned 
something of the working and disci pline of that mam 



17 

moth corporation, and took my first lessons in the life of 
an Indian trader, a life which I followed exclusively for 
ten consecutive years. Here, also, was located Fort 
Mackinaw, at that time garrisoned by three or four 
companies of United States troops. The village had 
a population of about five hundred, mostly of Cana- 
dian French, and of mixed Indian blood, whose . chief 
occupation was fishing in summer and hunting in winter. 
There were not more than twelve white women on the 
island, the residue of the female population being 
either all or part Indian. Here, during the summer 
months, congregated the traders employed by the Fur 
Company, bringing their collections from their several 
trading posts, which extended from the British domin- 
ions on the north and the Missouri River in the west, 
south and east to the white settlements ; in fact, to all the 
Indian hunting grounds, so that when all were collected 
they added three thousand or more to the population. 

The Indians from the shores of the upper lakes, who 
made this island a place of resort, numbered from two 
to three thousand more. Their wigwams lined the entire 
beach two or three rows deep, and, with the tents of 
the traders, made the island a scene of life and anima- 
tion. The voyageurs were fond of fun and frolic, and the 
Indians indulged in their love of liquor, and, by the 
exhibition of their war. medicine, and other dances and 
sports, often made both night and day hideous with 
their yells. These voyageurs were all Canadian French, 
and were the only people fitted for the life they were 
compelled to endure, their cheerful temperament and 
happy disposition making them contented under the 
privations and hardships incidenl to their calling. 



18 

At the time of our arrival, all the traders from the 
North and the Great West had reached the island with 
their returns of furs collected from the Indians during 
the previous winter, which were being counted and ap- 
praised, and the profit or loss of each " outfit' ' ascer- 
tained. 

All of the different outfits were received into a large 
warehouse, where they were assorted into various classes 
or grades, carefully counted, packed, and pressed for 
shipment to New York to John Jacob Astor, the presi- 
dent of the company. 

The work of assorting required expert judges of furs, 
a nice discrimination between the different grades being 
necessary, as prices varied very greatly, there being as 
many as six grades. Marten (sable), for example, being- 
classed as extra fine dark, number one dark, number two 
dark, number one fine brown, number two fine brown, 
number one fine, common, number two common, num- 
ber three common, good, out of season, inferior, dam- 
aged, and worthless. The value of the fur of this animal 
depended as much on color as fineness, and was found 
in the greatest variety of shades of color, and, with 
the exception of silver gray fox, was the most valuable. 
Mink, muskrat, raccoon, lynx, wild cat, fox, wolverine, 
badger, otter, beaver, and other small fur animals, re- 
ceived the same care, except there were fewer grades 
of quality. In bear skins, only, were there more than 
four grades, but in those the discrimination was nearly 
equal to marten, being extra fine black she, number tw< > 
ditto, fine number one, number two ditto, and fine, 
coarse, and numbers one, two, and three he bear. Deer 
skins required but little skill in assorting ; they were 



L9 

classed as red doe, red buck, blue doe, blue buck, season 
doe, season buck, out of season, and damaged. 

The commanders of outfits were deeply interested in 
the assortment of their furs, and were very watchful to 
see that justice was done them; for upon ibis depended 
their balance sheets of profit or loss. Hence, frequent 
disputes arose as to the grade and value of the skins. 

Mr. Matthews bad the general managemenl of the fur 
warehouse, and on arrival assumed the charge. After a 
few days I was ordered to report to him, and then com- 
menced my first instructions in the fur trade. 

It was my business to make a second count in order to 
verify the first. The first count was entered on a book 
not seen by me, and if mine corresponded with it, the 
furs were placed in a frame, pressed, marked, and rolled 
into the shipping wareroom. If, however, my count did 
not agree with the first, 1 was required to make a second 
count, and if there wais still a .discrepancy, a third person 
was called upon to recount them. This work took about 
two months, the working hours being from five o'clock 
in the morning to twelve noon, and from one to seven 
in the afternoon, and, as I was obliged to maintain a 
stooping posture, was severely fatiguing. 

About one hundred voyageurs were detailed toassisl in 
this business, and were kept under strict discipline. 
Most of them were experienced, and were generally con- 
tented and happy, each working with a will, knowing 
that Mackinaw fatigue duty came but once in fouryears, 
and that if they lived through the succeeding three 
years, their time at headquarters could be spent in com- 
parative ease and comfort. 

A party was also organized to cut wood on Bois 



20 

Blanc, and bring it in boats to the island for the 
use of the agents and employes who remained there; 
this party consisted of about twenty-five picked 
choppers, under the charge of one of the clerks detailed 
for that purpose. Another party was employed in 
lyeing (hulling) corn, and drying and putting up for 
the use of those remaining on the island, and for 
supplying the various outfits soon to leave for their 
trading posts. 

The daily ration issued by the commissary to a mess 
of from six to ten men, consisted of one pint of lyed or 
hulled and dried corn, with from two to four ounces of 
tallow, to each man ; and this was all the food they re- 
ceived, except that on Saturday flour was given them for 
Sunday pancakes. It would seem that this was a very 
short and light ration for healthy, hard-working men, 
but it was quite sufficient, and generally more than they 
could consume. It was invariably liked by them, and 
it was found that they could endure more hardships on 
this than on a diet of bread and meat. 

Those who came from Canada, their first season, and 
who were called mange- du-lard, or " pork- eaters," were 
usually much dissatisfied and angered with this ration, 
as on the voyage up they were fed on pork, pease, and 
hard bread, and the change was anything but agreeable 
to them. They were, however, soon laughed out of it by 
the old voyageurs, who told them that many of them 
would be thankful for even that before they returned 
from their winter quarters. 

The Company had a yard in which were made and re- 
paired their own boats, and where were manufactured 
traps, tomahawks, and other articles from iron. Other 



21 

paiiics of the men were detailed to assist the mechanics 
in this work. 

Most of the clerks were assigned to duty either in 
charge of the different gangs of men or in the wholesale 
and retail stores and offices. From these duties the heads 
of outfits were exempt. 

The force of the Company, when all were assembled 
on the island, comprised about four hundred clerks and 
i raders, together with some two thousand voyageurs. 
About five hundred of these were quartered in barrack^. 
<>ne hundred lived in the agency house, and the others 
were camped in tents and accommodated in rooms of 
the Islanders. 

Dances and parties were given every night by tin 1 resi- 
dents of the island in honor of the traders, and they, 
in their turn, reciprocated with balls and jollifications, 
which, though not as elegant and costly as those of the 
present day. were sufficiently so to drain from the par- 
ticipants all the hard earnings of the winter previous. 

In each "brigade," or outfit, was to be found one who, 
from superior strength or bravery, was looked upon as 
the "bully" mC that crew of voyageurs, and who, a- a 
distinguishing mark, wore a black leather in his cap. 

These "bullies" were generally good fighters, and were 

always governed by the rides of fair play. It was a rule, 

and was expected, thai they should tight each other: hence 
it was not an uncommon thing t<» -•■,■ a light. The van- 
quished one gave up his black feather t<» the conqueror, 
or shook hands with him, and they both joined with the 
lookers on in a glass of beer or whisky as good-naturedly 
as though nothing unpleasanl had occurred. 
The majority of the inhabitants of the island were of 



22 

mixed blood — Canadian and Indian — and those who were 
of pure blood, and were heads of families, had Indian 
wives. Their children, though uneducated, were usually 
bright and intelligent, and fond of finery, dancing, and 
other amusements. There were a few of the half-breeds 
who had received a common education, either in English 
or French, which was generally of little use to them, 
as they were mostly too lazy or proud to earn a livelihood. 

Among the Indian or part Indian women who were, 
or had been, married to white husbands, were found 
some of great intellectual capacity, who carried on an 
extensive trade with the Indians, one of whom was the 
Mrs. Mitchell before referred to; she had a store and a 
farm, both under excellent management, and her children 
had been well educated in Canada. This woman's hus- 
band was a Scotchman and a surgeon in the English 
army, and while the Island of Mackinaw was in the 
possession of England he was stationed there; removing 
afterwards to Drummond's Island, he rarely visited his 
family, though only fifty miles distant. He was a man of 
strong prejudices, hated the "Yankees,'' and would hold 
no social intercourse with them. 

Mrs. Mitchell was quite the reverse, and being rather 
partial to the " Yankees," treated them with great con- 
sideration; she was a fine housekeeper and owned one 
of the best houses on the island; she was fond of good 
society, very hospitable, and entertained handsomely, 
conversing in French and English, both of which she 
spoke fluently. 

Another of these women was Mrs. Lafromboise, who 
also traded with the Indians in the interior, usually up 
the Grand River of Michigan; her daughter was highly 



23 

educated, and married the commanding officer at Fort 
Mackinaw. 

Mrs. Lafromboise could read and write, and was a 
perfect lady in her manners and conversation; she was a 
widow, her husband, who was a trader, having been shot 
and killed by an Indian on the Mississippi River; she 
took his place and business and accumulated considerable 
money. She was afterwards employed on a salary by 
the American Fur Company. 

Mis. Chandler, a sister of Mrs. Lafromboise, was also 
noted for her ladylike manners and many Christian 
virtues. Her husband was an invalid and her daughter a 
widow. This daughter was also highly educated and 
was considered the belle of Mackinaw; she afterwards 
married Mr. Beard, a lawyer of Green Bay, Wisconsin. 

It was my good fortune to be received into these ex- 
cellent families as a welcome visitor, and they all took 
an interest in me and my welfare, calling me their "boy 
clerk." My 'leisure evenings were passed with them, 
much to my pleasure and advantage. From them I re- 
ceived much good advice, as well as instruction in the 
method o.f conducting trade with the Indians, which was 
of much benefit to me in my after life as a trader. 

It was also my good fortune to form the acquaintance 
of Mr. Deschamps, who was an old man and the head of 
the " Illinois outfit.*' 

Mr. Deschamps had been educated at Quebec for a 
Roman Catholic priest, but, refusing to be ordained, he, 
at the age of nineteen, engaged himself to Mr. Sara, 
a fur trader at St. Louis, and had devoted many years of 
his life to the Indian trade on the Ohio and Illinois 
Rivers When the American Fur Company was organ- 



24 

ized lie was engage! by them and placed in charge of the 
"Illinois brigade,' 1 or outfit. 

It was the policy of the American Fur Company to 
monopolize the entire fur trade of the Northwest ; and to 
this end they engaged fully nineteen-twentieths of all the 
traders of that territory, and with their immense capital 
and influence succeeded in breaking up the business of 
any trader who refused to enter their service. 

Very soon after reaching Mackinaw and making re- 
turns, the traders commenced organizing their crews and 
preparing their outfits for their return to winter quarters 
at their various trading posts, those destined for the ex- 
treme North being the first to receive attention. These 
outfits were called "brigades." 

The "brigade" destined for the Lake of the Woods, 
having the longest journey to make, was the first to de- 
part. They were transported in boats called ' ' batteaux. 
which very much resembled the boats now used by fish- 
ermen on the great lakes, except that they were larger, 
and were each manned by a crew of five men besides a 
clerk. Four of the men rowed while the fifth steered. 
Each boat carried about three tons of merchandise, 
together with the clothing of the men and rations 
of corn and tallow. No shelter was provided for the 
voyageurs, and their luggage was confined to twenty 
pounds in weight, carried in a bag provided for that 
purpose. 

The commander of the "brigade" took for his own use 
the best boat, and with him an extra man, who acted in 
the capacity of "orderly" to the expedition, and the will 
of the commander was the only law known. 

The clerks were furnished with salt pork, a bag of flour, 



25 

tea and coffee, and a tent for shelter, and messed with 
the commander and orderly. 

A vast multitude assembled at the harbor to witness 
their departure, and when all was ready the boats glided 
from the shore, the crews singing some favorite boat song, 
while the multitude shouted their farewells and wishes 
for a successful trip and a safe return; and thus outfit 
after outfit started on its way for Lake Superior, Upper 
and Lower Mississippi, and other posts. 

The "Wabash and Illinois River outfits" were almost 
the last, and were speedily followed by the smaller ones 
for the shores of Lakes Huron and Michigan, and which 
consisted of but from one to three boats. 

I was detailed to the Fond-du-Lac (Lake Superior) 
"brigade/" and a week or so before its departure was 
relieved from duty at the fur warehouse. 

About this time I received a letter from my father, 
written at Erie, Pennsylvania, in which he informed me 
that he and my brother were there on their way to Si. 
Louis, and that they had waited there a week looking 
for the Fur Company's vessel, which it was expected 
would touch there .mi her way from Buffalo to Mackinaw, 
upon which they hoped to obtain passage, and thus visit 
me, and if they found no way of proceeding to St. Louis 
from there, they would return on the vessel to Erie ; bu1 
fearing she had passed, and being uncertain whet her i hey 
should find me on the island, they had reluctantly con- 
cluded to continue their journey by way of Cincinnati. 

Iliad before this been told by Mr. Deschamps that he 
made a trip every fall to St. Louis, with one boat, to 
purchase supplies of tobacco and other necessaries for 
distribution among the various traders on the Illinois 



•20 

River; and as he had seemed fond of me, and possessed 
my confidence, I went immediately to him with my let- 
ter, thinking to advise with him, and, perhaps, to send by 
him an answer to my father. After hearing my story, 
he delighted me by saying. "Would you like to go with 
me, if it can be so arranged?" to which I answered affirm- 
atively, and begged for his influence and efforts to that end- 

A Mr. Warner, a fellow clerk from Montreal, had been 
detailed to Mr. Deschamps' "'brigade." 

"Now," said Mr. Deschamps, "if you can get Mr. 
Warner to consent to an exchange, I think I can get Mr. 
Crooks' permission; I can see no objection to it, and as 
I am the party mostly interested, I think it can be ar- 
ranged with him; you must Hist, however, obtain Mr. 
Warner's consent, and then I will see what I can do." 

So off I started, letter in hand, to see Warner, not 
daring to hope for success; but to my surprise I found he 
preferred going north to sonth, and would gladly make 
the change. I reported to Mr. Deschamps, and he, seeing 
my anxiety, took my letter and went immediately to Mr. 
Crooks, who gave his consent, and with it an order to the 
book-keeper to change the names in the details; you may 
feel certain that I felt much rejoiced at my good fortune. 
Thus my desire of finding my father in St. Louis was the 
probable cause of an entire change in my destiny, for, 
instead of being located in the cold regions of the North 
where my friend Warner froze to death that winter, my 
lot was cast in this beautiful State. 

During my stay at Mackinaw I had made the acquaint- 
ance of John H. Kinzie, a clerk of about my own age, 
and our acquaintance had ripened into an intimacy. He 
had entered the service of the company that spring, and 



27 

was stationed permanently at Mackinaw, and was not to 
be sent into the Indian country. His father then resided 
at Chicago, and I had learned of the great hospitality of 
the family, and of the high esteem felt for them by all 
who knew them; and as I had also been told that we 
should make a stop of a week or more at Chicago, there 
to make our arrangements for crossing our boats and 
goods to the Desplaines River, I gladly accepted letters 
of introduction which he kindly proffered me. to his 
father and family. 

Through my intimacy with John I had become quite fa- 
miliar with the appearance of theKinzie family and their 
surroundings. I knew that Fort Dearborn was located at 
Chicago, then a frontier post; that it was garrisoned by 
two com] tanies of soldiers, and that on my arrival there 
I should for the iirst time in my life see a prairie; and 
I felt that my new detail was to take me among those who 
would be my friends, and was happy in the thought. 



FIRST YEAR IX THE INDIAN COUNTRY — MARQUETTE 
CROSS — CHICAGO — FORT DEARBORN. 

The time of our departure soon arrived, and about 
noon on the 10th of September, 1818, our "brigade" 
left the harbor in twelve boats. 

Mr. Deschamps took me in his boat, and ]ed the way, 
with his fine, strong voice starting the boat song, in 
which all the crews heartily joined. 

The people on the shore bid us a "Godspeed,'" and 
joined with us in the hope for our safe return the next 
season. 

The Islanders, more than any one else, regretted our 
departure, as what few of the traders remained would 
go in a few days and leave them to the monotony of 
their own surroundings, even the Indians having mostly 
departed for their hunting grounds. 

Some of our boats were crowded with the families of 
the traders, the oldest of whom was Mr. Bieson. a large, 
portly, gray-headed man, who was then about sixty 
years of age, and for more than forty years had been an 
Indian trader on the Ohio, Mississippi, and Illinois 
Rivers. His wife was a pure-blooded Pottawatomie 
Indian, enormous in size — so fleshy she could scarcely 
walk. Their two daughters were married, and lived at 
Cahokie, a small French town opposite St. Louis. Mr. 
Bieson had a house and some property at Opa (now 
Peoria), but had been, with all the inhabitants of that 
place, driven off by the United States troops, under com- 
mand of General Howard, in the year 1813, and a fort 

(28) 



29 

whs there erected, which was called Fori Clark. The 

town of Opa and Port Clark were situated at the foot of 
Lake Peoria, on the Illinois River, where now stands 
the flourishing city of Peoria. 

The inhabitants of Opa were suspected (wrongly, 1 
think) by our government of being enemies, and of 
aiding and counseling the Indians in giving assistance to 
Great Britain, and this was the cause of General How- 
ard's action in compelling them to vacate. Undoubtedly 
some of them favored the British, and was paid spies, 
but a large majority opposed the Indians in siding with 
the British, and counseled them to act neutrally and 
attend to their hunting. 

Among the others, who had with them their families, 
were Messrs. Bebeau, of Opa, and Lefrombois, Bleau, and 
La Clare, all of whom had Indian wives: and, in fact, 
there were but three or four single men in the party. 
Those having families messed by themselves, while the 
single men clubbed together. Mr. Deschamps was fond 
of good living, and our mess of five was well provided 
for, having such meats, fish, and wild fruits as were pre- 
sented to us by the Indians when we mel them on the 
shore of Lake Michigan. 

It was a custom of the Indians to presenl the head man 
of an expedition with the besl they had. expecting to re- 
ceive in return, salt, powder, or something else of value 
to them. The choice parts were retained by Mr. Des 
champs for his own table, and the balance distributed 
among the traders. 

The traders were all provided with small tents, butthe 
only shelter given to the men was what was afforded by 
the boat tarpaulins, and, indeed, no other was needed. 



30 

the camp fires being sufficient for warmth during the 
night. No covering but their single blanket was re- 
quired, unless the weather was stormy. 

The boats progressed at the rate of about forty miles 
per day under oars, and when the wind was fair we 
hoisted our square sails, by the aid of which we were 
enabled to make seventy or seventy-five miles per day. 
If the wind proved too heavy, or blew strong ahead, we 
sought an entrance into the first creek or river we came 
to, and there awaited a favorable time to proceed. If 
caught by a storm on the coast, when a shelter could not 
be reached, we sought the shore, where our boats were 
unloaded and hauled up on to the beach out of reach of 
the surf. This was a hard and fatiguing labor, and was 
accomplished by laying down poles on the sand from the 
edge of the w r ater. The men then waded into the water 
on each side of the boat, and by lifting and pushing' as 
each large wave rolled against it, finally succeeded in 
landing it high and dry on the shore. The goods were 
then piled up, resting on poles, and covered over with 
the tarpaulins, which were raised to the leeward by 
poles, so as to form a good shelter for the men and pro- 
tect them from wind and rain. Sometimes w r e were 
compelled to remain thus in camp for four or five days 
at a time, waiting for the storm to subside, and during 
this time many games were indulged in, such as racing, 
wrestling, and card playing, and all were jolly and con- 
tented ; sometimes varying the monotony by hunting or 
fishing. 

Our journey around Lake Michigan was rather a long 
one. having occupied about twenty days. Nothing of 
interest transpired until we reached Marquette River. 



about where the town of Ludington now stands. This 
was the spot where Father Marquette died, aboul one 
hundred and forty years before, and we saw the remains 
of a red-cedar cross, erected by his men a1 the time of his 
death to mark his grave : and though his remains had 
been removed to the Mission, at Point St. [gnace, the 
cross was held sacred by the sroyageurs, who, in passing, 
paid reverence To it by kneeling and making the sign of 
the cross. Etwas about three feet above the ground, and 
in a falling condition. We re-set it, leaving it out of the 
ground about two feet, and as I never saw it after, 1 
doubt not that it was covered by the drifting sands of 
the following winter, and thai no white man ever saw it 
afterwards. 

We proceeded on our voyage, and on tin' evening of 
September :>(). 1818, reached the month of the Calumet 
River, then known as ttie "Little Calumet," where we 
met a party of Indians returning to their villages from 
a visit to Chicago. They were very drank, and before 
midnight commenced a tight in which several of their 
number were killed. Owing to this disturbance we 
removed our camp to the opposite side of the river and 
spent the remainder of the night in dressing ourselves 
and preparing for our advent into Chicago. 

We started at dawn. The morning was calm and 
bright, and we. in our holiday attire, with Hags Hying, 
completed the last twelve miles of our lake voyage. 
Arriving at Douglas Grove, where the prairie could lie 
seen through 'he oak woods. I landed, and climbing a 
tree, gazed in admiration on the lirst prairie 1 had ever 
seen. The waving grass, intermingling with a rich profu- 
sion of wild (lowers, was the most beautiful sight I had 



ever gazed upon. In the distance the grove of Blue 
Island loomed up, beyond it the timber on the Desplaines 
River, while to give animation to the scene, a herd of 
wild deer appeared, and a pair of red foxes emerged from 
the grass within gunshot of me. 

Looking north, I saw the whitewashed buildings of 
Fort Dearborn sparkling in the sunshine, our boats with 
flags liying, and oars keeping time to the cheering boat- 
song. I was spell-bound and amazed at the beautiful 
scene befor me. I took the trail leading to the fort, and, 
on my arrival, found our party camped on the north 
side of the river, near what is now State street. A sol- 
dier ferried me across the river in a canoe, and thus I 
made my first entry into Chicago, October 1. 1818. 

We were met upon landing by Mr. Kinzie, and as soon 
as our tents were pitched, were called upon by the officers 
of the fort, to all of whom I was introduced by Mr. Des- 
ehamps as his boy. I presented my letter of introduction 
to Mr. Kinzie, and with it a package sent by his son. In 
the afternoon I called at Mr. Kinzie' s house, and had the 
pleasure of meeting his family — consisting of Mrs. Kinzie; 
their eldest daughter, Mrs. Helm ; their youngest daughter, 
Maria, now the wife of Major- General David Hunter, of 
the U. S. Army, and their youngest. son, Robert, late pay- 
master of the U. S. Army, all of whom extended to me a 
cordial welcome. As I had so recently seen John, and 
had been so intimate with him. I had much of interest 
to tell them. 

I was invited to breakfast with them the next morning, 
and gladly accepted. As I sat down to the neat and well- 
ordered table for the first time since I left my father's 
house, memories of home and those dear to me forced 



33 

themselves upon me, and I could not suppress my tears. 
But for the kindness of Mrs. Kinzie I should have beaten 
a hasty retreat. She saw my predicament and said, ' ' I 
know just how you feel, and know more about you 
than you think ; I am going to be a mother to you if 
you will let me. Just come with me a moment." She 
led me into an adjoining room and left me to bathe my 
eyes in cold water. When I came to the table I noticed 
that they had suspended eating, awaiting my return. 
I said to Mrs. Kinzie, "You reminded me so much of my 
mother, I could not help crying ; my last meal with her 
was when I left Montreal, and since then I have never 
sat at a table with ladies, and this seems like home to me." 
Mr. Kinzie 1 s house was a long log cabin, with a rude piaz- 
za, and fronted the river directly opposite Fort Dearborn. 

FORT DEARBORN. 

Fort Dearborn was first established in 1S04, on the 
south bank of Chicago River near where it then dis- 
charged into lake Michigan. 

It was evacuated August 15, 1812, by Capt. N. Heald, 
1st U. S. Infantry, who was then in command, and it 
was on the same day destroyed by the Indians. 

It was rebuilt on the old site in June, 1816, by Capt. 
Hezekiah Bradley, 3d U. S. Infantry, and occupied by 
troops until October, 1823, when it was again vacated 
and left in charge of Alexander Wolcott, Indian Agents 

Re-occupied, October 3, 1828. 

Troops again withdrawn. May 20, L831. 

Re- occupied, June 17, 1832. 

Again vacated, July 11, 1832. 



34 

Ke-occupied, October 1, 1832. 

And finally abandoned, December 29, 1836. 

I have been unable to find from the records of the 
War Department by whom this post was originally 
established, but find it to have been commanded, after 
its re-establishment, by officers as follows: 

Capt. Hezekiah Bradley, 3d U. S. Infantry, from June, 
1816, to May, 1817. 

Brev. Maj. D. Baker, 3d U. S. Infantry, to June, 1820! 

Capt. H. Bradley, 3d U. S. Infantry, to January, 
1821. 

Maj. Alexander Cummings, 3d U. S. Infantry, to 
October, 1822. 

Lieut. -Col. McNeil, 3d U. S. Infantry, to October, 1823. 

Fort not garrisoned from October, 1S23, to October 3, 
1828. 

Capt. John Fowle, 5th U. S. Infantry, from October 3, 
1828, to December 21, 1830. 

Lieut. David Hunter, 5th U. S*. Infantry, to May 20, 
1831, when the troops were withdrawn. 

Maj. William Whistler, 2d U. S. Infantry, from June 
17, 1832, to July 11, 1S32, and from October 1, 1832, to 
June 19, 1833. 

When I first saw Fort Dearborn it was a stockade of 
oak pickets fourteen feet long, inclosing a square of 
about six hundred feet. 

A block house stood at the southwest corner, and a 
bastion in the northwest corner, about a hundred feet 
from which was the river. 

In the first fort an underground passage was con- 
structed from the bastion to the river's edge, but this 
was not kept open during the occupancy of the second, 



35 

but was kept in condition to be speedily re-opened should 
occasion ever require it. 

The officers' quarters were outside of the pickets, front- 
ing east on the parade, and was a two-story building of 
hewn logs. A piazza extended along the entire front on 
a line with the floor of the second story, and was reached 
by stairs on the outside. 

The first story was divided into kitchen, dining and 
store rooms, while the second story was in one large 
room. The roof was covered with split clapboards about 
four feet long. 

The soldiers' quarters were also of logs, and similar to 
the officers', except that both stories were finished off and 
divided into rooms. 

In the northeast corner was the sutler s store, also 
built of logs, while at the north and south sides were 
gates opening to the parade ground. 

On each side of the south gate were guardhouses, 
about ten feet square. 

The commissary storehouse was t wo stories in height, 
and stood east of the guardhouse and south of the sol- 
diers' quarters. 

The magazine was constructed of brick, and was situ- 
ated west of the guardhouse, and near the block house. 
The stockade and all the buildings were neatly white- 
washed, and presented a neat and pleasing appearance. 

West, and a little south, of the fort was the military 
barn, adjoining which, on the east, was the fort garden, 
of about four acres, which extended so as to front the 
fort on the south, its eastern line of fence connecting 
with and forming a part of the field extending south 
about half a mile. 



36 

Adjoining this fence on the east was the only road 
leading from the fort in either direction. The south line 
of the garden fence extended to the edge of the river, and 
a fence from the west end of the barn extended north to 
the river, so that the fort was wholly inclosed by fence 
from river to river. The inclosure between the stockade 
and the outer fences was covered with grass and adorned 
with trees and shrubbery. 

The well was in the outer inclosure and near the south 
gate, while about two hundred feet from the north gate 
was the river, a stream of clear, pure water, fed from the 
lake. 

On the east side of the fort the river was from four to 
five hundred feet from the pickets, and a part of this dis- 
tance was a low, sandy beach, where rude wash-houses 
had been constructed, in which the men and women of 
the garrison conducted their laundry operations. 

Just east of the road, and adjoining the fence running 
east to the river, was the "Factor House," a two-story, 
squared-log structure, inclosed by a neat split -picket 
fence. This building was occupied from 1804 to about 
the year 1810 by a Mr. Jonett, United States factor, and 
by the west side of the road, adjoining the government 
garden, in a picket-fence inclosure, was the grave of his 
wife. At the second construction of the fort he was 
succeeded by John Dean. 

For a distance of a quarter of a mile from the " Factor 
House " there was no fence, building, or other obstruction 
between the government-field fence and the river or lake. 
Another house of hewn logs stood twelve hundred or 
more feet from the road, and back of it flowed the 
Chicago River, which, as late as 1827, emptied into Lake 



37 

Michigan at a point known as "The Pines," a clump of 
a hundred or more stunted pine trees on the sand-hills 
about a mile from the fort. On the edge of the river, 
directly east of this house, and distant about four hun- 
dred feet, stood a storehouse of round logs, owned by the 
American Fur Company and occupied by its agent, Mr. 
John Craft, who erected it. This house was surrounded 
by a rail fence, and, after the death of Mr. Craft, was 
occupied by Jean Baptiste Beaubien. 

Adjoining this storehouse on the south was the fort 
burying-ground. The east line of the government field 
■extended to about this point, and thence west to the 
south branch of the river. These, with the addition of 
a log cabin near the present Bridgeport, called "Hard- 
scrabble," a cabin on the north side occupied by Antoine 
Ouilmette, and the house of Mr. Kinzie, comprised all 
the buildings within the present limits of Cook County. 

Between the river and the lake, and extending south 
to " The Pines," was a narrow strip of sand formed by 
the northeast winds gradually forcing the mouth of the 
river south of its natural and original outlet at Fort 
Dearborn. 

In the spring of 1828, the Chicago River had a strong 
current caused by flood ; and, taking advantage of this, 
the officer commanding at the fort ordered some of his 
men to cut a passage through the spit of land at the 
commencement of the bend and parallel with the north 
side of the fort. It was the work of but an hour or two 
to dig a ditch down to the level of the river, and the 
water being let in, the force of the current soon washed 
a straight channel through to the lake fifteen or more 
feet deep ; but the ever-shifting sand soon again filled 



38 

this channel, and the mouth of the river worked south 
to about where Madison street now is. 

To Captain Fowle, however, are we indebted for the 
first attempt to make a harbor of the Chicago River. 

The officers amused themselves with fishing and hunt- 
ing ; deer, red fox, and wild-fowl were abundant. Foxes 
burrowed in the sand-hills and were often dug out, brought 
to the fort, and let loose upon the sand-bar formed by 
the outlet of the river. They were then chased by hounds, 
men being stationed so as to prevent their escape from 
the bar. These fox hunts were very exciting, and were 
enjoyed by Indians and whites alike. None of the 
officers were married, and as the suttler's store furnished 
the only means of spending their money they were forced 
to be frugal and saving. They were a convivial, jolly 
set. 

Fort Wayne, Indiana, was the nearest post-office, and 
the mail was carried generally by soldiers on foot and 
was received once a month. The w r ild onion grew in 
great quantities along the banks of the river, and in the 
woods adjoining, the leek abounded, and doubtless 
Chicago derived its name from the onion and not, as 
some suppose, from the (animal) skunk. The Indian 
name for this animal is chi-kack, for the vegetable, chi- 
goug ; both words were used to indicate strong odors. 

What is now known as the North Branch was then 
known as River Guarie, named after the first trader 
that followed La Salle. The field he cultivated was trace- 
able on the prairie by the distinct marks of the cornhills. 



MUD LAKE — ISLE LA CACHE — STARVED ROCK — FORT 
CLARK — ENCOUNTER WITH AN INDIAN — ST. LOUIS. 

After a few days at Chicago, spent in repairing our 
boats, we struck camp and proceeded up the lagoon, or 
what is now known as the South Branch, camping at a 
point near the present commencement of the Illinois and 
Michigan Canal, where we remained one day preparing 
to pass our boats through Mud Lake into the Aux Plaines 
River. 

Mud Lake drained partly into the Aux Plaines and 
partly through a narrow, crooked channel into the South 
Branch, and only in very wet seasons was there suffi- 
cient water to float an empty boat. The mud was very 
deep, and along the edge of the lake grew tall grass and 
wild rice, often reaching above a man's head, and so 
strong and dense it was almost impossible to walk 
through them. 

Our empty boats were pulled up the channel, and in 
many places, where there was no water and a hard clay 
bottom, they were placed on short rollers, and in this 
way moved along until the lake was reached, where we 
found mud thick and deep, but only at rare intervals 
was there water. Forked tree branches were tied upon 

(39) 



40 

the ends of the boat poles, and these afforded a bearing 
on the tussocks of grass and roots, which enabled the 
men in the boat to push to some purpose. Four men 
only remained in a boat and pushed with these poles, 
while six or eight others waded in the mud alongside, 
and by united efforts constantly jerking it along, so that 
from early dawn to dark we succeeded only in passing a 
part of our boats through to the Aux Plaines outlet, 
where we found the first hard ground. While a part of 
our crew were thus employed, others busied themselves 
in transporting our goods on their backs to the river ; 
it was a laborious day for all. 

Those who waded through the mud frequently sank 
to their waist, and at times were forced to cling to the 
side of the boat to prevent going over their heads ; after 
reaching the end and camping for the night came the 
task of ridding themselves from the blood suckers. 

The lake was full of these abominable black plagues, 
and they stuck so tight to the skin that they broke in 
pieces if force was used to remove them; experience had 
taught the use of a decoction of tobacco to remove them, 
and this was resorted to with good success. 

Having rid ourselves of the blood suckers, we were 
assailed by myriads of mosquitoes, that rendered sleep 
hopeless, though we sought the softest spots on the 
ground for our beds. 

Those who had waded the lake suffered great agony, 
their limbs becoming swollen and inflamed, and their 
sufferings were not ended for two or three days. 

It took us three consecutive days of such toil to pass 
all our boats through this miserable lake ; when we 
finally camped on the banks of the river, our goods had 



41 

all crossed the portage and we were once more ready to 
proceed. 

Our boats being again loaded, we resumed our voyage 
down the Desplaines until we reached Isle La Cache, 
where low water compelled us to again unload our goods 
in order to pass our boats over the shoal that here pre- 
sented itself ; and again we camped after a hard day's 
labor. 

Isle La Cache took its name from a circumstance in 
the life of Mr. Sara, a trader who, when on his way with 
loaded canoes from Montreal to St. Louis, with goods 
for the Indian trade on the Ohio River, camped at this 
point. A band of Indians demanded of him some of his 
goods as a tribute for the privilege of passing down the 
river; this was refused. The Indians then returned to 
their village, a short distance below, held a council and 
determined to stop his canoes as he passed their village, 
and take by force what he had refused to give. Some 
of them, however, opposed this robbery, and one of the 
band reported the action of the council to Mr. Sara. 

The night was dark and misty, and Mr. Sara deter- 
termined to pass if possible by strategy, but to fight 
rather than accede to their demands. Fearing he 
might be overcome by numbers and thus lose his goods, 
and in order to lighten his canoes, so that he could pass 
rapidly over the shoal places in the river, he ordered the 
most valuable portion of his goods removed to a grove, 
about a mile distant on the prairie, and there hid them 
in holes dug in the ground (caches), removing the surplus 
earth to a distance, and carefully smoothing over the 
spot, so that no trace of the hiding place could be 
seen ; he then armed his men with guns, tomahawks, 



42 

and knives, and at daybreak started on his way down 
the river. 

Stopping at the village, he stationed his men so as to 
guard the canoes, and then called on the Indians for a 
talk, which was granted; he told them that he should 
defend his goods; that the Great Father, the French 
King, had given him permission to go to the Ohio River, 
and showed them a parchment ornamented with numer- 
ous ribbons and large red seals; he said to them, " here 
is my evidence, the King has made this writing, and it 
tells you that I must not be stopped or disturbed in pass- 
ing through the nations of his red children; if any harm 
shall come to me he will revenge it by sending an army 
to destroy them and take possession of their country." 

This speech and demonstration had the desired effect, 
and the Indians were glad to excuse themselves; they 
however said that they were poor and needed clothing 
and tobacco; that they had no powder and but few guns, 
and were preparing to send a delegation to St. Louis to 
see their Great Father's Captain to state their condition 
and make known their wants. 

Mr. Sara replied that he was authorized to give them a 
present from their Great Father, and that he should have 
done so but for their demand and threat, but as they had 
repented, he would now give it to them; whereupon he 
handed them a small bale, which he had previously pre- 
pared for that purpose, and ornamented with ribbons 
and sealing wax. The bale contained a few pieces of 
calico, powder and shot, tobacco and flints, and steels for 
striking fire, which delighted them exceedingly. 

He then said to them, " You see my canoes are light; 
I have but little in them, but when I camped last night 



43 

you saw them heavily loaded. I had a dream; the Spirit 
told me you held a council, and determined to rob me 
when I passed your village this morning; that is why 
you see my men with guns, tomahawks, and knives, 
with which to defend themselves; we did not fear you, 
though there are many of you and we are but few, 
though you might have overpowered us; we are now 
friends, and I want you to help us; go with my men, 
take your pack-horses and bring the goods I have left 
behind and help us down the river with our boats until 
we reach the deep water below the shoals, when I will 
give you another bale of goods in token of my friendship, 
and bid you farewell." To this they consented; the 
goods were removed from their hiding place and trans- 
ported on horses to the confluence of the Desplaines and 
Kankakee Rivers and again loaded in the canoes; the 
Indians being both surprised and amused at his strategy. 
This is the story as related to me. 

Our progress from this point was very slow indeed, 
and most of the distance to the Illinois River our goods 
were carried on our backs, while our lightened boats 
were pulled over the shallow places, often being 
compelled to place poles under them, and on these 
drag them over the rocks and shoals. In this manner 
almost three weeks were occupied in reaching the mouth 
of Fox River, and two days more brought us to the foot 
of Starved Rock. Parkman, in his Discovery of the 
Great West, thus describes this romantic and picturesque 
spot : 

" The cliff called 'Starved Rock,' now pointed out to travelers 
as the chief natural curiosity of the region, rises steep on three 
sides as a castle wall to the height of a hundred and twenty-five 



44 

feet above the river. In front, it overhangs the water that 
washes its base; its western brow looks down on the tops of the 
forest trees below ; and on the east lies a wide gorge or ravine, 
choked with the mingled foliage of oaks, walnuts, and elms; while 
in its rocky depths a little brook creeps down to mingle with 
the river. 

"From the rugged trunk of the stunted cedar that leans for- 
ward from the brink, you may drop a plummet into the river 
below, where the catfish and the turtles may plainly be seen 
gliding over the wrinkled sands of the clear shallow current. The 
-cliff is accessible only from behind, where a man may climb up, 
not without difficulty, by a steep and narrow passage. The top is 
about an acre in extent." * 

After leaving Starved Rock we met with no further 
detentions from scarcity of water. We passed on our 
way a number of Indian villages and stopped a few 
hours at each, not for the purpose of trading, but only 
to barter tobacco and powder for meat and Indian corn. 
We were treated kindly by all, and felt perfectly safe 
among them ; they were all acquainted with our traders, 
and knew where the trading houses were to be located, 
from which they would obtain their hunting outfits. 

Opposite the mouth of Bureau River, and about a 
mile above the present site of the town of Hennepin, our 
first trading house was located, and placed in charge of 
Mr. Beebeau, who for many years had been a trader in 
that region. I was assigned to this post and was to have 
charge of the accounts, as neither Beebeau nor any of 
the men could read or write. Beebeau kept his accounts 
with the Indians by a system of hieroglyphics. 

I was permitted by Mr. Deschamps to accompany 
him to St. Louis, whither he went with one boat to pur- 

* The Discovery of the Great West, p. 287-8. 



45 

chase supplies of tobacco and some other needed articles 
from the French people at Cahokia. Beebeau received 
his invoices of goods and detail of men, and we pro- 
ceeded onward. 

Our next post was located three miles below Lake 
Peoria, and about sixty miles from Bureau, and was 
placed in charge of old Mr. Beason, a venerable man, 
who had long been a trader on this river, and was well 
and favorably known by the Indians ; this we called Opa 
post. 

As we rounded the point of the lake above Peoria, we 
discovered that old Fort Clark was on fire, and upon 
reaching it we found Indians to the number of about two 
hundred engaged in a war dance ; they were hideously 
painted, and had scalps on their spears and in their 
sashes, which they had taken from Americans during 
the war with Great Britain from 1812 to 1815. 

A young brave having noticed me, inquired who I was, 
and Mr. Deschamps replied that I was his adopted son 
from Montreal. This answer he gave to allay the sus- 
picion that had arisen that I was an American, a nation 
then much disliked by the Indians. 

The Indian doubted the truth of Mr. Deschamps' 
statement, insisted that I was an American, and endeav- 
ored to force a quarrel with me. Mr. Dechamps left me 
in the boat in charge of one of the men, and went among 
the Indians to converse with them. 

Using this man as an interpreter, the Indian resumed 
the conversation with me, and saying that 1 was an 
American, took from his sash, one after another, a num- 
ber of scalps, and showing them to me, told me they 
were the scalps of my people. I was trembling with fear, 



46 

which he observed, and drawing from his sash a long- 
haired scalp, he wet it and sprinkled the water in my 
face. In a moment my fear turned to rage, and seizing 
Mr. Deschamps' double-barreled gun, which lay in the 
bottom of the boat, I took deliberate aim at him and 
fired. The man who was left with me, seeing my inten- 
tion, struck up the gun and saved the Indian' s life, and 
probably my own and that of others of our party. 
Hearing the report of the gun and the consequent con- 
fusion, Mr. Deschamps and the men with him came run- 
ning back to the boats, and after a short consultation 
Mr. • Deschamps ordered the boats to push out. and we 
started down the stream. This incident left such an 
impression on my mind that no doubt exists with me as 
to the time of the burning of Fort Clark. 

Having given Mr. Beason his outfit and left with him 
one of our boats, we pursued our journey, establishing 
posts every sixty miles, the last one being about fifty 
miles above the mouth of the river. 

From this point we departed with but one boat, with a 
picked crew of men, all in high glee and singing a Cana- 
dian boat song, in which Mr. Deschamps, as usual, led. 
We made rapid progress, and when we again camped it 
was at the mouth of the Illinois River. On the follow- 
ing day, November sixth, at about two o'clock in the 
afternoon, we reached St. Louis. Our boat was soon 
surrounded by the friends of Mr. Deschamps, among 
whom were many priests, and all united in a hearty 
greeting. 

I knew my father and brother should be at this place, 
but where to find them I could not tell. My anxiety to 
see them was so great that I went into the nearest tavern, 



47 

l)iit found no trace of them there. As I was on the 
street I passed a gentleman who seemed to notice me ; I 
turned and spoke to him, telling him 1 was a stranger in 
search of my father. He though.1 a moment, then said, 
"The name sounds familiar; I think I was introduced 
to htm at Mr. Paddock's.'* I asked him if Mr. Paddock 
came from Vermont ; he replied in the affirmative, and 
directed me to his house, which I soon found. The door 
was opened by a pretty young girl,* who told me that 
he was at Mr. Enos\ who was also a Vermonter and an 
old friend of our family. Here at last I found my father, 
who was conversing with Mr. Enos. He did not recog- 
nize me, so much had I changed since our parting, 
though only six months had passed. I was then thin 
and pale from close confinement in the store, but with 
the outdoor life and exposure, I had gained in weight 
and strength, and become as brown as an Indian. 

On inquiring for my brother, I learned that he was 
employed in a drug stole near by, where we found him 
pounding something in a mortar. Though I did not 
speak he knew me at once, and exclaimed, " O, brother ! 
brother!" bursting into tears. The meeting was a joy- 
ous one, and I think the day the happiest of my life. 

At this time St. Louis had a population of about eight 
hundred, composed of French, English, Spanish, and 
American. 

Cahokia, a French town on the opposite side of the 
river, was then the largest, it having a population of 



* About two years previous to the death of Mr. Hubbard, Miss Paddock, 
the " pretty young girl," of 1818, was reminded of this incident by reading 
a published letter of Mr. Hubbard's, and immediately wrote him. giving 
her address, after which several letters passed between them. 



48 

about one thousand. There Mr. Deschamps made most 
of his purchases of flour and tobacco, which, with some 
merchandise bought in St. Louis, completed our return 
cargo. 

This French village was then a jolly place. Mr. Des- 
champs was a favorite with all, and was treated as the 
distinguished guest of every family. There was dancing 
at some of the houses every night ; and even the priests 
claimed his assistance in their singing. 

I was permitted to remain in St. Louis with my father 
and brother, being required to report daily to Mr. Des- 
champs, and perform such duties as were assigned to me. 
My home was at Mr. Paddock' s, with my brother, and 
here I was treated very kindly by all the family. My 
father was preparing to go to Arkansas, with the inten- 
tion of locating permanently there ; and when, at the 
end of two weeks, we parted, it was our farewell, as I 
never saw him again. 



SHAUB-E-NEE — WA-BA AND CHE-MO-CO-MONESS — TIPPE- 
CANOE BATTLE GROUND— THE FEAST OF THE DEAD. 

About the twentieth of November we started on our 
return voyage, ascending the Mississippi and Illinois Riv- 
ers and distributing to our various trading posts portions 
of our cargo. I reached my station between the tenth 
and fifteenth of December, where Mr. Deschamps, after giv- 
ing me particular instructions as to my duties, and open- 
ing the books, left me with his blessing. The accounts had 
heretofore been kept in hieroglyphics by Beebeau, my 
ignorant master, who proved to be sickly, cross, and petu- 
lant. He spent the greater part of his time in bed, 
attended by a fat, dirty Indian woman, a doctress, who 
made and administered various decoctions to him. One 
of our men, Antoine, had an Indian wife and two 
children, the oldest a boy about my own age, but who 
was in >1 regularly in the employ of the Company. 

My trouble at Fort Clark, and the circumstances at- 
tending it. had become known to the Indians in the vicin- 
ity of our post. Their chief was Wa-ba, and soon after 
my arrival he, accompanied by Shaub-e-nee, called on 
me, saying they wished to see the little American brave. 
Shaub-e-nee was then about twenty-five years of age, 

4 (49) 



50 

and was, I thought, the finest looking man I had ever 
seen. He was fully six feet in height, finely propor- 
tioned, and with a countenance expressive of intelligence, 
firmness and kindness. He was one of Tecumseh*s aids 
at the battle of the Thames, being at his side when 
Tecumseh was shot. Becoming disgusted with the con- 
duct of General Proctor, he, with Billy Caldwell (the 
Sauganash). withdrew their support from the British 
and espoused the cause of the Americans.! Shaub-e-nee, 
in after years, during the Black Hawk War, was indefat- 
igable in notifying the white settlers in DuPage, Grundy, 
and La Salle Counties of threatened danger, often riding 
both night and day, in great peril, and by his timely 
warning and counsel saving the lives of many settlers. 
He lived to the age of eighty-four years, and died July 
17, 1859, at his home in Morris, Grundy County, respected 
and beloved by all who knew him. 

Chief Wa-ba had shortly before this lost a son, of 
about my own age, and so, according to the Indian cus- 
tom, he adopted me in his stead, naming me Che-mo-co- 
mon-ess (the Little American). I enjoyed the friendship 
of Wa-ba for a number of years and until his death, and 
I here desire to deny the statement made by a historian 
of our State, that Wa-ba plundered certain mounds and 
removed from them their valuable contents. Such a deed 
would have been wholly at variance with his character, 
which was that of an honest man, and certainly could 
not have occured without my having heard of it, which 
I never did until I saw it in the book referred to. 

Wa-ba had another son who, with Antoine's son and 
myself, frequently hunted together, and we all became 
quite expert. 



ni 

Our cabin was built of logs, those forming the sides 
being laid one on the other and held in place by stakes 
driven into the ground, and these fastened together at the 
top by willies of bark. The logs forming the ends were 
of smaller size, driven into the ground perpendicularly, 
the centre ones being longer and forked at the top, and 
upon these rested the ridge pole. Straight grained logs 
were then selected and splil as thin as possible, making 
seel ions of i hree or four inches in thickness, which were 
laid with one end resting upon the ridge pole, the other 
on the logs which formed the sides of the cabin: through 
these was driven a wooden pin, which rested against the 
top log on the inside of the cabin, and projected eighteen 
inches or two feet above the roof. The cracks and open- 
ings of roof and sides were then daubed with a cement 
made of clay mixed with ashes, and then the whole roof 
was covered with long grass, which was held in place by 
other logs laid on top. 

The chimney and fire place were made in the follow- 
ing manner: At the centre of one side of the room four 
st might piles were driven firmly in the ground, the front 
ones being about eight feet apart and the hack ones about 
five feet; then small saplings, cut to proper lengths, were 
fastened by withes at each end to the upright poles, and 
about eighteen inches apart. Then came the mortar, 
made from clay and ashes, into which was kneaded long- 
grass so as to form strips ten or twelve inches in width 
and about four feet long; the centre of these strips were 
then placed or hung on the cross poles and pressed to- 
gether so as to cover the wood, and in this way the 
chimney was carried up to the top of the upright poles 
and then three or four feet above the roof, or even with 



52 

the ridge pole. A second coat of mortar, about two 
inches thick, was then thrown on. pressed to the rough 
first coat and smoothed with the hands: the hearth was 
then made of dry. stiff clay, pounded down hard, and the 
structure was finished. 

The floor of the cabin was made of puncheons, the sur- 
face of which were dressed with a common axe or toma- 
hawk, so as to remove the splinters, the edges being- 
made to tit together as close as possible. The door was 
made of the same material, puncheons, hung on 
wooden hinges, and fastened by a wooden latch with 
back string attached, so it could be raised from the out- 
side, and when the string was pulled in. the door was 
locked. 

To make the window one of the logs in the end of the 
3 ut so as to leave an opening of about eighteen 
inches in width by twenty or thirty inches in length. 
into which was sel ugh s sh, and over this was 

glued paper, which had been thoroughly oiled 
with bear or coon grease. This completed the house, 
which was warm and comfortable. 

Our bunks were placed in a row. one above the other, and 

were made of puncheons split as thin as possible. The 

bottom rested on parallel saplings cut to a proper length. 

one end of which w 3 3 red in a two-inch auger hole 

logs in, and the other supported by a 

puncheon set upright. The bedding consisted of long, 

3 gi 5S, laid lengthwise of the bunk, on top of which 

- placed a skin of some kind ^generally buckskin > or an 

Indian mat. At the head the grass was raised - 5 to 

make a pillow, and to each man was allowed one blanket 

for cover. 



53 

The table, with round sapling legs, and puncheon top, 
iii*l a fchree-legged stool, constructed in the same manner, 
completed the furniture of the mansion. 

The only tools allowed to each outfit was a common 
two-inch auger, an ordinary scalping knife, a 
crooked knife (this had a blade six inches long and 
rounded at the end i, and tomahawk, and with these im- 
plements everything was constructed, and some of the 
men did excellent work with thesesimple tools. 

Our kitchen utensels were few and primitive, consist- 
ing of a frying-pan, a couple of tin pots, one very la _ 
Indian bowl made of wood, and several smaller on 
Table knives and forks we had none, and our spoons 
were of wood, ranging in capacity from a gill to a pint. 

Wood was, of course, plenty, and our large fire-place 
was kept well tilled. 

A camp-kettle chain was suspended from a hook made 
from the limb of a tree and fastened to the roof, from 
which also hung cords, which were used for roasting 
game. Our meat being thus suspended before a bright 
fire, it was the duty of one man. with a long stick, to 

■■pit whirling rapidly until sufficiently cooked, when 
it was placed in the large wooden bowl on the table, and 
each one helped himself by cutting off with his knife and 
fingers as much as he desired Usually we had nothing 
on the table except honey. The wild turkey was 
used as a substitute for bread, and when eaten with fat 
venison, coon, or bear, is more delicious than any roast 
can be. 

One of our luxuries, which was reserved for special oc- 
casions, was coin soup, and this was always acceptable. 

Those traders who were so fortunate as to possess an 



54 

iron bake-pan or skillet, were particularly favored, and 
the more so if they were also possessed of flour, for then 
many delicacies were possible, and many kinds of 
chopped meats and baked ' ' avingnols ' ' afforded a dish not 
to be refused by kings. 

Let me give one or two recipes : To one pound of 
lean venison, add one pound of the breast of turkey, 
three-fourths of a pound of the fat of bear or raccoon ; 
salt and pepper to taste, and season with the wild onion 
or leek; chop up or pound fine (the meat), and mix all 
well together ; then make a thin crust, with which cover 
the sides and bottom of the bake-pan ; then put in the 
meat and cover it with a thicker crust, which must be at- 
tached firmly to the side crust ; now put on the cover of 
your bake-pan and set it on the hot coals, heaping them 
on the top, and bake for one hour, and you will have a de- 
licious dish. 

Another: Make a thin batter and drop small balls of 
the minced meat into it and fry in bear or coon fat, tak- 
ing care that the meat is well covered with the batter. 
This we called "les avingnol." 

From the ponds we gathered the seeds of the lotus, 
which we used for coffee, our ever-filled honey-trough 
furnishing the sweetening. Our supply of salt and pepper 
was rather limited, and these were used only on special 
occasions. 

Thus passed the winter. When at home, chatting, jok- 
ing and playing tricks on each other; making oars and 
paddles to replace the worn out and broken ones, and 
getting ourselves ready for the spring's departure. 

As I had little to do in the house besides keeping the 
books and being present when sales were made for furs 



55 

or on credit, and being disgusted with the disagreeable 
and filthy habits of my master, Beebeau, I fairly lived in 
the open air with my two comrades. Our time was spent 
in the manly exercise of hunting and trapping, on foot 
or in canoes, and as they spoke in the Indian language 
only, they were of great assistance to me in learning it, 
which I accomplished before spring. E also became pro- 
ficient in hunting, and could discern animal tracks on the 
ground and tell what kind they were, and whether they 
were walking slow or fast or running. I could detect 
the marks on the trunks of trees made by such animals 
as the raccoon or panther, if they had made it a retreat 
within a month or so. My companions had many laughs 
and jokes at my expense for my awkwardness in hunt- 
ing and ignorance in tracking animals, but I faithfully 
persevered in my education. 

My clothing during this winter and for the subsequent 
years of my life as a trader, consisted of a buckskin hunt- 
ing shirt or a blue capote belted in at the waist with a 
sash or buckskin belt, in which was carried a knife and 
slieath, a tomahawk, and a tobacco pouch made of the 
skin of some animal, usually otter or mink. In the 
pouch was carried a flint and steel and piece of punk. 

Underneath my outside garment I wore a calico shirt, 
breech -cloth, and buckskin leggins. On my feet *neips 
and moccasins, and sometimes in winter, a red knit cap 
on my head. I allowed my hair to grow long and usually 
went bareheaded. When traveling in wilder I carried, 
and sometimes wore, a blanket. 

During this wilder I made two trips into the interior: 

* Square pieces of blanket which were folded over the feet, and were 
worn in place of stockings. 



56 

One to the mouth of Rock River, where I first saw Black 
Hawk, and for the first time slept in an Indian wigwam. 
The other to the Wabash River. For the privilege of go- 
ing, I was required to carry a pack on my back of fifty 
pounds weight, the men with me carrying eighty 
pounds. These packs contained goods to exchange for 
furs and peltries. During the first few days this was 
very severe, and I often wished I had not undertaken it, 
but by the time 1 returned, I was able to carry my pack 
with comparative ease and keep up with the others in 
walking. 

On my trip to the Wabash River we found a band of 
Kick-a-poo Indians encamped on Pine Creek, a branch of 
the Wabash, and one evening quite a number of the In- 
dians gathered into the trader's wigwam and were dis- 
cussing the subject of Harrison's light at Tippecanoe. A 
number of these Indians had participated in the battle, 
and twelve of them had been wounded. As I could not 
understand their language sufficiently well to converse, I 
employed my man as interpreter, and told them that 
from what I had read in books, they had deceived Gen- 
eral Harrison, pretending to be friendly and getting him 
to camp in an exposed situation where an attacking 
enemy would have great advantages. They laughed 
heartily, saying that the contrary was the truth. He had 
selected the strongest natural position in all that country; 
that at any other place they could have conquered him 
and but few could have escaped. In consequence of his 
strong position, they had a long consultation in planning 
the attack. I was so much interested in what I heard 
that I asked to go to the battie ground on the following 
morning, which they agreed to. Accordingly, the next 



57 

morning I was furnished with a pony, and accompanied 
by two or three of them, started for the battle ground, 
and on arriving there found that their report was cor- 
rect, and was much surprised at seeing such a location. 

The ground was admirably adapted to defense, being 
on an elevated plateau. On the westerly side ran Bur- 
nett Creek, the bank of which, on the side of Harrison's 
encampment, was very steep, while on the opposite side 
the descent was gradual. On the easterly side was a 
prairie swamp skirting the plateau. Northerly and east- 
erly was high ground and timber land, and it was here 
and along the creek that Harrison's soldiers made the 
attack. From Harrison's Report, pp. 289-290, it appears 
that General Harrison did not quite like the ground, but 
I am satisfied that no better could have been found in 
that vicinity, and in that opinion I am sustained by Gen- 
eral Tipton, who participated in the battle, and with 
whom I afterwards became acquainted while he was 
Indian agent at Logansport, Ind. 

At a subsequent date I again visited the locality in 
company with General Tipton, and he pointed out to me 
the positions held by the contending forces, and his ac- 
count of the battle agreed with that given me by my red 
friends. The general and myself seated ourselves under 
a tree, on the bank of the little creek where the Kick- 
a-poos made their attack, and he there detailed to me the 
incidents of the march and fight. With a small stick he 
mapped out on the ground the positions held by the 
troops and Indians, and, playfully digging and throwing 
up pebbles, he said: " Near this spot a friend of mine 
had his jaw shot away; he suffered great agony, but soon 
died." Just as he said this he unearthed some teeth 



58 

which had once belonged to a human being. He picked 
them up, firmly believing them to be those of his friend, 
and for years after they occupied a place in his cabinet 
of curiosities. 

Our trip proved a successful one, and having sold 
all our goods, we hired ponies to transport our furs and 
peltries and returned home, where I was warmly wel- 
comed by my young companions, who were glad to have 
me again join them in their hunts. A day sufficed to 
decipher Beebeau's hieroglyphics, extract from mem 
orandas and memory, the items of accounts, and write 
up the books, and I dropped back into the regular routine 
of my life. I also made a visit to our trading post sit- 
uated three miles below Peoria, which was in charge of 
old Mr. Eeason. Though this post was sixty miles dis- 
tant we reached it in one day's travel by starting at day- 
light and walking until dark, and returned after a visit 
of two or three days. By constant practice I had by this 
time become a good walker and could cover forty to fifty 
miles per day with ease. 

Winter passed without any special incident, and early 
in March, 1819, we received by a, carrier orders from Mr. 
Deschamps to have eveiw thing in complete readiness to 
start for Mackinaw on the twentieth. We kept track of 
the days of the month by notches cut in a stick, which 
hung in the store, having no almanac or calendar, and 
indeed I was the only one of the party who could have 
read it if we had possessed one. 

Our fare had consisted during the winter of a variety 
of game, such as venison, raccoon, panther, bear, and 
turkey, varied as spring approached with swan, geese 
and crane, besides almost every variety of duck. Prairie 



59 

chickens and quail were also abundant, but these we did 
not consider eatable. Our game was cooked in French 
style, and to our mind, could not be excelled in any 
kitchen. 

We had received in the fall one pound of green tea and 
a bag of flour, about a hundred pounds, and while this 
lasted we luxuriated on Sundays in pancakes and honey. 
The woods abounded in wild honey, and we kept a largi 
wooden howl full at ail times, of which we partook when 
ever we desired. 

In the forenoon of the 20fch of March, we heard in the 
distance the sound of the familiar boat-song and recog- 
nized the rich tones of Mr. Deschamps' voice, and we 
knew the "Brigade" was coming. We all ran to the 
landing and soon saw Mr. Descjiamps' boat rounding the 
point about a mile below; his ensign floating in the 
breeze. We shouted with joy at their arrival and gave 
them a hearty welcome. 

The remainder of the day and far into the night 
was spent in exchanging friendly greetings and re- 
counting the events that had transpired since our 
parting. Little sleep was had, and but little wanted. 
Mr. Deschamps had flour and tobacco, and we feasted and 
smoked and talked and laughed, and a happier party 
cannot well be imagined. The next day we spent in 
loading our boats, and the day following the thirteen 
boats of the "Brigade" pushed off from the shore, and, 
to the music of the Canadian boat-song, we stalled on 
our long return journey. 

The first night we hailed at our old campground at 
the foot of Starved Eock. From this point until we 
reached Cache Csland, our progress was very slow, averag- 



60 

ing but from six to ten miles per day. The river was 
high, the current swift, and the rapids strong, and as 
the boats were heavily laden and a cold storm prevailed, 
we were glad to camp early and afford the men a much- 
needed rest. Early the morning following we left Cache 
Island, and as the wind was strong from the southwest, 
we hoisted our square sails for the first time, and rapidly 
passed up the Desplaines River, through Mud Lake, to 
South Branch, regardless of the course of the channel, 
and soon reached Chicago. 

We camped on the north side of the river, a small dis- 
tance above Fort Dearborn, where we remained six or 
eight days repairing our boats and putting them in con- 
dition for the more serious journey of coasting Lake 
Michigan. 

Our stay in Chicago was a pleasant one to me. The 
same officers were in command at the fort that were 
there when we left in the fall, and warmly greeted us 
on our return. 

Mr. Kinzie again took me to his own house, where I 
was treated as one of the family, and I formed a strong 
attachment for these good friends. Seeing Mrs. Kinzie 
again brought my mother vividly to my mind, and made 
me all the more anxious to hear from her and my father. 
Since parting from them I had not heard from either, 
and could not expect to until I reached Mackinaw. 

On a beautiful morning in April, about the 20th or 
25th, we left Chicago and camped at the Grand Calumet. 
We did not desire to reach the mouth of Grand River 
(Grand Haven) before the May full moon, for annually 
at that time the Indians assembled to fast and feast their 
dead, the ceremonies occupying eight or ten days. A 



noted burying ground was selected and the ground around 
the graves thoroughly cleaned, they being put in the best 
of order. Many of the graves were marked by small 
poles, to which were attached pieces of white cloth. 
These preparations having been completed, all except 
the young children blackened their faces with charcoal 
and fasted for two whole days, eating literally nothing 
during that time. Though many of them had no rel- 
atives buried there, all joined in the fast and ceremonies 
i in memory of their dead who were buried elsewhere, and 
the sounds of mourning and lamentation were heard 
around the graves and in the wigwams. 

At the close of the two days' fast they washed their 
faces, put on their decorations, and commenced feasting 
and visiting from one wigwam to another. They now 
placed wooden dishes at the head of each grave, which 
were kept daily supplied with food, and were protected 
from the dogs, wolves, and other animals, by sticks 
driven into the ground around and inclosing them. The 
feasting lasted several days, and the ceremonies were 
concluded by their celebrated game of ball, which is in- 
tensely interesting, even the dogs becoming excited and 
adding to the commotion by mixing with the players 
and barking and racing around the grounds. 

We progressed leisurely to the mouth of the St. Joseph 
River, where we encamped for several days, and were 
joined by the traders from that river. We reached Grand 
River early in May. and sought a good camping place up 
the river, some distance from the Indian camps. The 
"Feast of the Dead" had commenced, and many In- 
dians had already arrived, and for five or six days we 
were witnesses to their strange yet solemn ceremonies. 



62 

One evening, at the close of the feast, we were in- 
formed that an Indian, who the fall previous, in a 
drunken quarrel, had killed one of the sons of a chief of 
the Manistee hand, would on the morrow deliver himself 
up to suffer the penalty of his crime according to the In- 
dian custom. We gave but little credence to the rumor, 
though the Indians seemed much excited over it. On 
the following day, however, the rumor proved true, audi 
witnessed the grandest and most thrilling incident of 
my life. 

The murderer was a Canadian Indian, and had no 
1 »lood relatives among the Manistees, but had by invita- 
tion, returned with some of the tribe from Maiden, where 
they received their annuities from the English Govern- 
ment, and falling in love with a Manistee maiden, had 
married her and settled among them, agreeing to become 
one of their tribe. As was customary, all his earnings 
from hunting and trapping belonged to his father-in-law 
until the birth of his first child, after which he com- 
manded his time and could use his gains for the benefit 
of his family. At the time of the killing of the chief's 
son he had several children and was very poor, possess- 
ing nothing but his meagre wearing apparel and a few 
traps. He -was a fair hunter, but more proficient as a 
trapper. 

Knowing that his life would be taken unless be could 
ransom it with furs and articles of value, after consulting 
with his wife, he determined to depart at night in a 
canoe with his family and secretly make his way to the 
marshes at the headwaters of the Muskegon River, where 
he had before trapped successfully, and there endeavor 
to catch beaver, mink, marten, and other fine furs, 



63 

which were usually abundant, and return in the spring 
and satisfy the demands of the chid'. As, according to 
the custom, if he failed to satisfy the chief and family of 
the murdered man, either by ransom or a sacrifice of his 
own life, they could demand of his wife's brothers what 
he had failed to give, he consulted with one of them 
and told him of his purpose, and designated a particular 
location on the Muskegon where he could be found if it 
became necessary for him to return and deliver himself 
up. Having completed his arrangements, he made his 
escape and arrived safely at the place of destination, and 
having but few traps and but a small supply of ammu- 
nition, he arranged dead-fall traps in a circuit around 
his camp, hoping with them and his few traps to have a 
successful winter, and by spring to secure enough to save 
his life. 

After the burial of his son, the chief took counsel with 
his sons as to what they should do to revenge the dead. 
and as they knew the murderer was loo poor to pay their 
demands, they determined upon his death, and set aboul 
finding him. Being disappointed in this, they made a 
demand upon the brothers of his wife, who. knowing 
that they could not satisfy his claims, counselled together 
as to what course to pursue, all but one of them believ- 
ing he had fled to Canada. 

The younger brother, knowing his whereabouts, sent 
word to the chief that he would go in search of 1 he mur- 
derer, and if he failed to produce him would himself give 
his own life in his stead. This being acceptable, without 
divulging the secret of his brother-in law's hiding place, 
he started to find him. It was a long and difficult jour- 
ney, as lie had no landmarks to go by and only knew 



64 

that he should find his brother-in-law on the headwaters 
of the Muskegon, which he finally did. 

The winter had been one of unusually deep snow, and 
the spring one of great floods, which had inundated the 
country where he was. The bears had kept in their 
dens, and for some reason the marten, beavers, and 
mink had not been found, so that when their brother-in- 
law reached them he and his family were almost per- 
ishing from starvation, and his winter's hunt had proved 
unsuccessful. They accordingly descended together to 
the main river, where the brother left them for his re- 
turn home, it being agreed between them that the mur- 
derer would himself report at the mouth of Grand River 
during the "Feast of the Dead," which promise he 
faithfully performed. 

. Soon after sunrise the news spread through the camp 
that he was coming. The chief hastily selected a spot 
in a valley between the sand-hills, in which he placed 
himself and family in readines to receive him, while we 
traders, together with the Indians, sought the surround- 
ing sand-hills, that we might have a good opportunity to 
witness all that should occur. Presently we heard the 
monotonous thump of the Indian drum, and soon there- 
after the mournful voice of the Indian, chanting his own 
death song, and then we beheld him, marching with his 
wife and children, slowly and in single file, to the place 
selected for his execution, still singing and beating the 
drum. 

When he reached a spot near where sat the chief, he 
placed the drum on the ground, and his wife and chil- 
dren seated themselves on mats which had been prepared 
for them. He then addressed the chief, saying: " I, in 



65 

a drunken moment, stabbed your son, being provoked to 
it by his accusing me of being a coward and calling me 
an old woman. I fled to the marshes at the head of the 
Muskegon, hoping that the Great Spirit would favor me 
in the hunt, so that I could pay you for your lost son. I 
was not successful. Here is the knife with which I 
killed your son; by it I wish to die. Save my wife and 
children. I am done." The chief received the knife, 
and, handing it to his oldest son, said, "Kill him." The 
son advanced, and, placing his left hand upon the shoul- 
der of his victim, made two or three feints with the knife 
and then plunged it into his breast to the handle and 
immediately withdrew it. 

Not a murmur was heard from the Indian or his wife 
and children. Not a word was spoken by those assembled 
to witness. All nature was silent, broken only by the 
singing of the birds. Every eye was turned upon the 
victim, who stood motionless with his eyes firmly fixed 
upon his executioner, and calmly received the blow with- 
out the appearance of the slightest tremor. For a few 
moments he stood erect, the blood gushing from the 
wound at every pulsation ; then his knees began to 
quake ; his eyes and face assumed an expression of death, 
and he sank upon the sand. 

During all this time the wife and children sat perfectly 
motionless, gazing upon the husband and father. Not a 
sigh or a murmur escaping their lips until life was extinct, 
when they threw themselves upon his dead body, lying 
in a pool of blood, in grief and lamentations, bringing 
tears to the eyes of the traders, and causing a murmur of 
sympathy to run through the multitude of Indians. 

Turning to Mr. Deschamps, down whose cheeks the 

5 



66 

tears were trickling, 1 said : *' Why did you not save 

that noble Indian. A tow blankets and shirts, and a 
Little cloth, would have done it." "Oh, my hoy/* ho 
replied, £i we should have done ir. It was wrong and 
thoughtless in us. What a scene we have witnessed." 

Still the widowed wife and her children were clinging 
to the dead body in useless tears and grief. The chief 
and his family sat motionless for fifteen or twenty min- 
utes, evidently regretting what had been done. Then 
he arose, approached the body, and in a trembling voice 
said : " Woman stop weeping. Your husband was a 
brave man. and like a brave, was not afraid to die as the 
rules of our nation demanded. We adopt you and your 
children in the place of my son ; our lodges are open to 
you : live with any of us : we will treat you like our own 
sons and daughters ; you shall have our protection and 
love."' "Ohe-qai ocfc" (that is right*, was heard from the 
ibled Indians, and the tragedy was ended. 

That scene is indelibly stamped on my mind, never to 
be forgotten. 

After the conclusion of the feast, we left in company 
with a large fleet of birch-bark canoes, occupied by In- 
dians and their families, returning from their winter 
hunting grounds to their villages on the shore of Lake 
Michigan. A fair wind at starting increased to a gale in 
the after part of the day. and caused a high sea. We 
reached the Manistee River, which had a strong current. 
in entering which, we experienced much trouble from the 
breakers, and some of the boats shipped considerable 
water, but we all landed in safety. The Indians, how- 
ever, were not so fortunate, some of their canoes being 
swamped, and several of the women and children 



•17 

drowned. No assistance could be rendered them, though 
a number of the children, who were lashed to bundles of 
Indian mats, were saved; the Indians and squaws 
swimming and holding to the mat-, and thus keeping 
them from turning over. Others were saved by the 
canoes thai followed, and passed safely in 

We reached Mackinaw without further incident about 
the middle of May, being among the first to arrive from 
the Indian country. Other "outfits" followed shortly 
after, the last to arrive being from the Lake of the 
Woods. 

J found letters from my mother awaiting mo. one of 
which announced the death of my father, which occurred 
soon after he reached Arkansas. He was taken sick 
while on the circuit. Having- been but a short time in 
the Territory, he had formed but few acquaintam 
and those mostly lawyers. My little brother, Christopher, 
thus suddenly left, was kindly cared for by R. P. Spald- 
ing, Esq., an attorney of the Territory, whose father 
resided in Norwich, Conn., and in the following winter 
his kind protector took him To Middletown, Conn., where 
he found friend- and relatives. . 

My mother had l^ft Montreal and returned to New 
England, and had with her. her youngest daughter, 
Hannah, while my other sisters had been placed at 
school, one in Windsor, Vt. . and the others in New Lon- 
don, Conn.; thus were those most dear to me, and 
to each other, cast upon the world without home or pro- 
tector. This news made me very sad. and T determined 
to return and care for my mother and family, and 
accordingly tendered my resignation, which the Com- 
pany refused to accept. 



68 

After a few days' sojourn I was detailed under Mr. 
Matthews to receive and help count the furs brought in 
by the different oufits, put them into packs, and get 
them in readiness for shipment to New York, whither 
they were to go in a vessel chartered at Buffalo for that 
purpose. This packing furs was very hard work, and 
about one hundred men were detailed to assist in it. 
Each skin must be beaten to remove the dust and 
any moths that might be in it. The different qualities 
were then carefully selected, and each packed into a 
frame, which was put under a press made of strong up- 
right planks, on each side of which were four-inch open- 
ings, and in these were placed oak scantling, which filled 
the space between the top of the pack and the head of 
the frame. Wedges were then introduced between the 
scantling and these driven in by wooden mauls, as heavy 
as one man could wield, until the furs would compress 
no further, when the pack was firmly tied at ends and 
centre with rawhide ropes. A stave was attached to 
each pack, under the ropes, upon which was marked the 
number. The number, quality and kind of skins were 
then correctly invoiced. Work commenced at five 
o'clock in the morning and lasted until sunset, with an 
intermission of one hour at noon. My duties did not, 
however, end with sunset. I had to lock up before I 
went to my supper, and after to write up the accounts 
of the day, which often took until midnight. This was 
the commencement for me of real hard work, and lasted 
five or six weeks. 

Robert Stewart had charge of the outside work, while 
Mr. Crooks was the general director of the affairs of the 
Company. These two gentlemen were wholly unlike in 



69 

character. Mr. Crooks was a mild man, rarely out of 
temper, and governed more by quiet reasoning and mild 
command than by dictation. Mr. Stewart was one of 
those stern Scotchmen, who gave his orders abruptly 
and expected them obeyed to the letter, yet a man of 
a deal of humor and fond of fun. He had a fund of 
anecdotes and was excellent company. Though he often 
gave unnecessary orders and required everything to be 
done neatly and promptly, he was kind and sympa- 
thetic. He was quick tempered and wholly fearless, and 
the clerks knew that his commands were to be obeyed to 
the letter, but that if their duties were properly per- 
formed they would receive full credit and be treated 
with kindness and consideration. 

At one time, when he had sent men to Bois Blanc 
Island to cut the year's supply of wood, he learned 
that some of them had returned, and suspected that they 
had been sent for whisky. He accordingly caused them 
to be watched until his suspicions were confirmed. 
When they were about to push off for their return he 
suddenly appeared, expressing great surprise to see them. 
"What is the matter," said he; " have you met with 
an accident ; are any of you sick, or what are you here 
for?" The bowman replied that they came over to see 
some friends and get tobacco, and proceeded to push the 
boat off. Mr. Stewart rushed into the water and seized 
the boat by its bow ; two of the men persisted in push- 
ing it off, but he succeeded in pulling the boat ashore, 
and ordered the two men up into the yard. Closing the 
gate, he told them they were to be punished, and 
they, being very angry, used insulting language, which 
threw him into a towering rage. Seizing a stick he 



70 

knocked them both down, nearly killing- one of them. 
Dr. Beaumont, the surgeon of the fort, was sent for, 
who examined the man. and pronounced his skull 
fractured and the result doubtful. Mr. Stewart was in 
great distress and himself cared for the man through the 
night, and was much relieved in his mind when the 
doctor told him in the morning that he thought the man 
would live, though a slight increase in the force of the 
blow would certainly have killed him. 

This Mr. Stewart was the same man described by Mr. 
Irving in his "Astoria," as having compelled the 
captain of the ship in which he was sailing to tack 
ship and return to an island for his uncle, who had gone 
ashore while the vessel was becalmed and had acci- 
dentally been left there. 

My good friend, John H. Kinzie, resided in Mr. 
Stewart's family, and though much loved and respected, 
was often the victim of his temper or humor. On one 
occasion, when he had finished making out a long invoice, 
which he had taken unusual care to write nicely and in 
commercial shape, and supposed he would be highly 
complimented on its production, delivered it to Mr. 
Stewart, who carefully looked it over, sheet after sheet, 
and on the very last page discovered a blot and a figure 
erased and rewritten. Pointing to them with a scowl, he 
said, k ' Do you call this well done ? Go and do it over *" ; 
and he tore it into fragments. Poor John was sorely 
mortified, but was consoled by Mrs. Stewart, who had 
been instructed to do so by her husband, and proceeded 
to rewrite his invoice, satisfied either of his own imper- 
fections, or of the disagreeable temper of his master. 

At another time, an old voyageur who performed the 



71 

duties of a house-servant for Mr. Stewart, complained to 
him that John was impertinent to him, ordering him to 
do things instead of politely asking him to, and said that 
at times he was tempted to strike him. ." You arc right, 
old man," said Mr. Stewart. "The hoy is foolish ; he 
should always treat an old man with resped ; give him 
a good thrashing the next time he insults you ; it' you do 
not I shall have to. Can you whip him in a fair fight '," 
"Yes, sir," was the reply. "Then do so ; but be sure 
you strike him with nothing but your fist." When 
John came to dinner he told him to order the old man to 
shovel the snow from a little yard in front of Mrs. 
Stewart's window. " Make him do it at once, and stand 
over him until it is done. 1 ' The old man was busy saw- 
ing wood in a shed when John started to give him orders. 
As soon as John was out of the way, Mr. Stewart slipped 
into another room to a window to see the fun. John 
approached the old man, saying, "Old man, you have 
wood enough sawed ; get the snow- shovel and clean away 
the snow from the little yard." The old man made no 
reply, but placed his thumb to his nose and made an ex- 
pressive movement with his fingers. "Did you hear 
me?" • , Yes.' , " Why don't you mind?" "IS one of 
your business ; you wait till I get ready." "Ready or 
not, you have got to clean away the snow right off." 
■' Who will make me ?" " I," said John, and, advanc- 
ing, rather unceremoniously put his hand on the old 
man's shoulder, who resented by a blow on the nose that 
started the blood. They fought for some time, to the 
great enjoyment of Mr. Stewart, and the Lesson was not 
wholly lost either on John or the other clerks. 
One evening when a number of clerks were sitting on 



72 

the stoop just after tea, Jean Baptiste Beaubien came 
along boasting of his fast running. Mr. Stewart had 
slipped up behind us unperceived and heard Beaubien' s 
boasting, and said I can beat you in a race from the 
store to the cooper shop (about the distance of a block). 
"No, you can't," said Beaubien. "I will bet you a 
boot I can," said Stewart. " Done ; come on," said Beau- 
bien. So they took their stations and started. Mr. 
Stewart stopped about half-way, with Beaubien about a 
rod ahead ; and, coming to the platform, said, "I'll pay 
the boot ; but what will you do with only one boot ?" 
Beaubien insisted that he was to have a pair, but on re- 
ferring the matter to the parties, they decided the bet 
was for one only. " Now," said Mr. Stewart, " we will 
flip up a dollar to see whether it shall be a pair or none. 
Here is a dollar. Now, sir ; heads I win, tails you 
lose. Three flips?" "Yes." It was head. " Oh. heads 
I win." Next time it turns tails. " Oh, tails you lose/ ' 
"Yes, yes," says Beaubien. Throws again, and this 
time heads. "Heads I win, Mr. Beaubien." "How 
the d — 1 ; I lose the head, I lose the tail ; by gar, you 
make me lose all the time"; and, amid a roar of 
laughter, Mr. Stewart made his exit. 

This Beaubien had some education, could read and 
write, and was very proud of his accomplishments. Com- 
ing into the office one morning about daylight he said to 
the bookkeeper, ' ' Mr. Bookkeeper, I write very fine, 
and I make pretty figures." * ' Is that so ? Well, help me a 
little; put down on that paper, one; now put down two; 
there, that's all; now add them together." After some 
reflection he announced the result as three. ' ' Now, " said 
the bookkeeper, " put down two; now one; add them to- 



73 

gether." After pondering over it for a time Beaubien 
looked up with a radiant countenance and exclaimed, 
"By gar he all make three," and went off profoundly 
impressed with his own learning and proficiency in 
mathematics. 



FISHING IN MUSKEGON LAKE— A MONTH OF SOLITUDE — LOST 
IN A SNOW STORM — DEATH OF DUFRAIN. 

I supposed I should be again detailed to the Illinois 
river "brigade" with my old leader, Mr. Deschamps, 
and was much surprised and grieved, when the time 
arrived to select goods and make ready for our departure, 
to receive one evening a summons from Mr. Crooks to 
meet him at his private office, when I was informed that 
I was not to go to my old post, but, in company with a 
Frenchman named Jacques Dufrain, take charge of an 
outfit on the Muskegon River. Dufrain could neither 
read nor write, but had a large experience among the 
Indians on the Peninsula of Michigan, and I was to be 
governed by his advice in trading. 

I was told that the invoices would be directed to me, 
and that I was to be the commander of the expedition, 
and Dufrain simply my adviser, and then I was not to 
allow his advice to govern me when it differed materially 
with my own views. Mr. Crooks also told me that 
though I was young and inexperienced, he was confident 
that with Dufrain's honesty and acquaintance with the 
Indians, I would have no difficulty in conducting the 
venture; the outfit would be small, and we were to go in 

(74) 



10 

Mr. Deschamps' "brigade' 1 to the mouth of the Mus- 
kegon or not, as we chose. ( )ur headquarters were to be 
some sixty miles up the river. 

This was, indeed, a bitter disappointment to me, as I 
had counted very much on seeing Mr. Kinzie's family, 
for whom I had formed a great attachment, and had 
hoped for Mr. Deschamps' permission to spend two or 
three weeks with them and the officers of Fort Dearborn, 
and then go alone and join my companions at Beaureau 
trading house. And besides, I had left some of my clothing 
at Mr. Kinzie's to be repaired and put in order b} r my 
return. But as there was no other alternative, I received 
my goods with a good grace, and about the middle of 
October, lSli*, started with the Illinois "brigade" on my 
second trip to the Indian country. 

We camped the first night at Point Wagashvic and 
there remained wind-bound for the space of a week, and 
soon thereafter reached the Little Traverse. Here Mr. 
Deschamps advised me to stop and purchase my canoe 
and some Indian corn. About ten miles distant, at the 
foot of the bay, was an Indian village, and thither I 
sent my associate to make the necessary purchases; and 
after an absence of two days he returned with a canoe 
loaded with Indians, and about eight bushels of corn and 
some beans for our winter's stores. It wasasmall supply, 
but all we could get. and having paid for it we got 
ready to leave on the following morning. 

When morning came we found the wind blowing 
strong from the northeast, aftei wards changing to north- 
west and west, and for ten days blowing a gale so that 
November had come before we had started. We left 
before the heavy sea had subsided, and with great lain a- 



76 

(there being but three men to row the boat) reached 
Grand Traverse, where we were again detained five or six 
days by adverse winds; another start, more heavy sea, 
and Calp River was reached, where we were again wind- 
bound for several days. 

Thus, with a heavily laden canoe and adverse winds, 
often in great peril, sometimes shipping water and nar- 
rowly escaping wreck, suffering from cold, and worn 
with toil, we entered the Muskegon River about the tenth 
of December and found the lake frozen. The weather 
was very cold, and the coast Indians had ah left for their 
hunting grounds in the interior. 

Dufrain said it would be impossible to reach our desti- 
nation, and recommended the repairing of an old aban- 
doned trading house at a point of the lake about one and 
one half miles distant and there make our winter 
quarters. This we decided to do, though it would be very 
inconvenient, being from thirty to fifty miles distant 
from the Indian hunting grounds, where we should be 
compelled to go to trade. By breaking ice ahead of our 
boat we reached the place, and went industriously to 
work to repair the house and make it tenan table. 

We had not seen an Indian for fifteen or twenty days, 
and as it was necessary to reach them, and let them 
know where we had located, we decided to send an ex- 
pedition in search of them at once. Accordingly we 
made up an assortment of goods into three packages of 
about sixty pounds each, which, with a blanket apiece, 
were to be carried by Jacques and the two voyagers who 
constituted our force ; and on a bright December morning 
they bade me good-bye and started on their journey. 

As Jacques was perfectly familiar with the country, 



?? 

I did not look forward to a long absence, and was content 
to remain alone. My stock of provisions consisted of the 
corn and a small quantity of flour, which we had brought 
from Mackinaw, and as I had my gun to depend on I 
thought I should have no difficulty in procuring all the 
meat I desired. 

Dufrain had told me that I should find no game, but 
this I did not believe. I confined my hunting trips to a 
mile or so of the house, never daring to go out of sight 
of it, and for a week found rabbits and squirrels in suf- 
ficient numbers to supply me with food. Then came a 
heavy fall of snow and for several days I could find 
nothing to shoot, and as the work of walking in two feet 
of snow was very laborious and I expected Dufrain to 
return very soon, I concluded to remain in doors, keep up 
a good fire, and content myself with corn. I had, I 
think, three books, which helped me to while away the 
time. 

We had found in the lake a drowned deer which we 
had skinned, and this skin dried furnished me with a mat 
upon which to lie in front of the fire. The fireplace was 
broad, some three or four feet, and very deep, and so 
took in large logs that made a warm, cheerful fire. The 
timber under the hill, around the house, had all been cut 
off by its former occupants, and procuring wood was a 
serious problem. Through the deep snow from the top 
of the hill I was obliged to carry it, and for days I 
labored all the morning in getting my day's supply of 
fuel. The snow being so deep I could not haul or roll it 
down the hill, I set about devising some way to over- 
come the difficulty, and the idea of using the deer skin 
in some way for a sled presented itself to my mind. As 



78 

it was not long enough to take on the four-foot logs I 
cut them three feet only, and having soaked the skin to 
make it pliable, I laid a log on it, and tied up the sides 
of the skin around it with a grape vine, and found I had 
a pretty fair sled. My down-hill path soon became hard 
and smooth, and extended to the door of the house, and 
my load would frequently slide down to the bottom with 
me astride of it. 

In a Book of Travels in the Northwest, which I had 
read, the author described the manner in which some 
tribes of Indians caught large fish during the winter. 
A hole was cut in the ice, over which a small shelter was 
built sufficiently large for one person to sit in, and made 
as dark as possible. The occupant then stationed him- 
self with a spear in his left hand and a small wooden fish 
attached to a string in his right ; the imitation fish being 
jerked up and down in the water attracted the larger 
ones, and they were easily speared. 

I thought that what an Indian could do in that line, I 
could, and set about making my preparations. I whittled 
out a stick into the shape of a fish, shaping it as artis- 
tically as I could, and colored it by searing with a hot 
iron. In an excavation made for the purpose I poured 
melted lead to sink it, and after having placed in the 
head beads for eyes I had quite a natural looking fish, 
about four inches in length. Placing my spear head on 
a handle, I marched with them to the middle of Muske- 
gon Lake, cut a hole in the ice, and erected a shelter by 
sticking poles in the ice and stretching a blanket over 
them. Everything being in readiness, I crawled into 
the hut, and lying flat on the ice dropped my "little 
pet " — as I called my little fish — and anxiously awaited 



79 

tl io result. I was sood gratified by the appearance of a 
large fish that made a dart al my decoy. I hurled my 
spear at him, and missed. And thus every few min- 
utes for more than two hours I repeated the operation 
with the same results, when, mortified and angry, 1 
returned, cold and hungry, to my solitary home and 
made a dinner of corn. 

Brooding over my ill luck and awkwardness and 
almost discouraged, I concluded thai "practice would 
make perfect," and that I would try again on the follow- 
ing day, which I did, and after an hour or so of unre- 
warded effort I succeeded in catching a large lake 1 rout, 
with which I returned to my house and soon had boil- 
ing in my camp kettle: and never before or since did 
fish taste so good. After that I had no trouble in taking 
all the fish I wanted. 

Every night a wolf came and devoured the remnants 
of the fish I had thrown out. I could see him through 
the cracks of my house, and could easily have shot him, 
but he was my only companion, and I laid awake at 
night awaiting his coming. 

Thus I lived for thirty long, dreary, winter days, soli- 
tary and alone, never once during that time seeing a 
human being, and devoured with anxiety as to the fate 
of Dufrain and his men, whom I feared had met with 
some serious mishap, if, indeed, they bad not been mur- 
dered. My anxiety for the last two weeks bad been 
■most intense, and at times I was almost crazy. 1 could 
not leave my goods, and knew not what I should do. 

I looked upon the expedition as worse than a failure, 
and my first management of a trading bouse as a dis- 
astrous one. I thought that, should I live to return to 



80 

Mackinaw, I should be an object of ridicule among the 
traders, and have incurred the lasting displeasure of my 
employers, and this was to be the end of all my bright 
anticipations for the future. Oh, that I had been per- 
mitted to again accompany Mr. Deschamps and join my 
old companions at Beebeau's trading house. 

My joy can be better imagined than described when, 
one morning, I discovered a party of men at the head of 
the lake coming toward me. I supposed them to be 
Indians, but was soon rejoiced to recognize among them 
Du train and his two companions. Having disposed of 
all their goods, and been successful in their trading, they 
had secured a large number of furs, and with the assist- 
ance of Indians, whom they had hired and equipped in 
snow-shoes, they had carried them on their backs. At 
the sight of the rich treasures they unloaded all my 
gloomy anticipations fled, and joy and satisfaction 
reigned in their stead. 

The expedition had been one of great success ; the 
goods had all been disposed of, and in their place they 
brought the finest and richest of furs — marten, beaver, 
bear, lynx, fox, otter, and mink making up their collec- 
tion. 

Dufrain had a long account to give of trials, disap- 
pointments, and perseverance. He was ten days in find- 
ing the first band of Indians, and these had already been 
visited by an opposition trader, who cleared the camp of 
all the valuable furs and told the Indians that no trader 
would come to Muskegon. The Indians regretted his 
late arrival, as he was a great favorite with them. 

Though in their progress thus far they had suffered 
greatly from want of provisions, and had progressed but 



81 

slowly and with great fatigue owing to the depth of the 
snow, they determined to push on to other camps and dis- 
pose of their goods before the other trader should reach 
them. Having provided himself and party with pro- 
visions and snow-shoes, Dufrain despatched an Indian to 
me to tell me of his movements, and that he should be 
gone twenty days longer, and started on his way. We 
afterwards learned that after a half-day's travel the Indian 
injured his foot and was compelled to return to the camp, 
and thus I was left in ignorance of Dufrain' s movements. 

All was joy that night in our little household, the men 
as glad to return as I was to welcome them. I feasted 
them bountifully on corn soup and fish and listened to the 
recital of the incidents of their trip. 

Another trip was decided on to go to the camp of some 
Indians he had heard of, but not seen, and who were in 
need of clothing, and had an abundance of furs. As time 
was very precious, the following day was devoted to 
selecting and packing goods and making preparations for 
departure. I decided to go with this expedition, though 
Dufrain remonstrated, and told me I could not stand the 
hardships of the journey; that having never traveled on 
snow-shoes I would have the mal du raquette, or become 
sick, and thus detain them; but to my mind anything 
could be easier endured than another month of such sol- 
itude as I had just passed through, and mal du raquette 
or sickness were nothing to be compared with what I had 
endured. 

On the following morning we departed, leaving one 
man in charge of the house. Though my pack was only 
half as heavy as the others, the day was one of untold 
misery to me, never having walked in snow-shoes before. 



The day was clear and cold, the country rough and hilly 
and covered with underbrush, and every few minutes I 
tripped and fell, and usually landed at full length and 
buried my face in the snow, from which I could not arise 
without assistance from the others. By noon I was com- 
pletely exhausted, and my load was carried by one of the 
others; and though we had made an early start, when we 
camped at night we had traveled only about six miles. 

Then came the preparations for the night's rest. The 
snow was about two feet deep, and shelter we had none. 
A place was selected by the side of a large fallen tree, the 
snow was scraped from the ground, and a place cleared of 
about six feet by ten, dry and green wood cut and piled 
up to the windward of the log, and a fire struck with flint 
and steel. Hemlock boughs were cut for bedding, and 
these covered with a blanket, to keep them down and in 
place; then the packs were placed at one end to protect 
our heads from the wind, and our beds were complete. 
During our march we had killed two porcupines, and 
these were dressed and toasted on sticks, and with our 
pounded parched corn made a very delicious supper. And 
as we had eaten nothing since early morning good appe- 
tites gave additional zest to the repast. 

After supper, a smoke, and then to bed, all lying- 
together on the hemlock beds, covered with the two 
remaining blankets, with our feet to the fire, which we 
replenished through the night. I slept but little, being 
kept awake by the aching of my legs, the muscles of 
which were badly swollen. 

Before day all were up, and breakfast was made from 
the remnants of the previous night's supper, and by the 
time it was light we were ready to resume our journey. 



83 

I was so stiff and lame that I could scarcely walk, and 
Duf rain advised me to return, he offering to go part way 
with me, and there meet the other man, whom I should 
send from the house. I at first thought I would do so, 
but the recollection of the lonely month of anxiety I had 
passed there soon determined me to go on with the 
party, and all Duf rain's arguments failed to change my 
purpose. Every step caused me suffering, but as I 
warmed up the pain by degrees left me. I had caught 
the knack of throwing out the heels of my snow-shoes 
by a slight turn of the foot, and my falls were less fre- 
quent, and when we camped at night we estimated thai 
we had made during the day about three leagues or nine 
miles. 

During the day we had cut from a hollow tree two 
rabbits, and these with corn furnished our supper. Our 
camp was made as on the previous night. In th« 
morning we consumed the remainder of our stock o' 
corn, as we expected to reach an Indian camp by night, 
and made our usual early start. 

Snow soon commenced falling, and continued hard all 
day, and as the weather had moderated the snow stuck 
to our shoes, making them heavy and the walking very 
tiresome ; we failed to find the Indians, and camped for 
the night with nothing to eat. The muscles of my toes 
were very sore, and on removing my moccasins and 
neips, I found my feet much swollen, and at the tops 
where the strap that held my snow-shoes was fastened, 
they were red and bruised, sure signs of "mo/ dn 
raquette." The morning found me in a sad condition, 
the swelling much increased, and the tops of my feet s< > 
sore that I could not bear my snow-shoes without great 



84 

pain; still, on we went, I hobbling along as best I could. 
The snow still fell, and about noon we reached the 
Indian camp, and were provided with dinner by a 
squaw, and did ample justice to the bear meat and corn 
soup which she provided. 

In the evening the Indians returned from hunting 
and trapping, bringing a good supply of furs, and the 
following forenoon was employed by them in selling 
their furs, and settling with Duf rain for the goods he had 
sold to them on a previous trip. We remained in this 
camp five days, and I was very kindly treated. The old 
squaw poulticed my feet with herbs, and for two days I 
practiced every hour or so on my snow-shoes, so that 
when we left these hospitable people I felt well and 
strong, and had no trouble in keeping up with the 
others, nor was I tired at night. We camped in the 
usual manner, having made fifteen miles that day. 

Just at dark of the next day, as we were preparing 
our camp, we heard the bark of a dog, and knew the 
Indians were near; taking up our march, we soon 
reached their camp, where we remained for two days. 
A grand feast was prepared by the Indians, partly in 
honor of our visit, at which all the meat and broth set 
before us must be eaten, and the bones saved and buried 
with appropriate ceremonies, as an offering to the Great 
Spirit, that he might favor them in the hunt. The offer- 
ing was a fat bear, over which a great pow-wow was 
first had by all the inmates of the lodges, after which it 
was carefully skinned, cut into small pieces, and put into 
the kettle in the presence of all. 

During the cooking, speeches were made by some of 
the older Indians invoking the aid of the Great Spirit, 



85 

and when cooked the meat was carefully removed from 
the kettles and distributed in wooden bowls to each indi- 
vidual present in such quantities as their age and capacity 
for eating would seem to warrant, and all receive their 
just proportion. Then the oil was skimmed off, and it 
and the broth divided in a like manner ; a harangue 
was delivered by the head of the lodge, asking the Good 
Spirit to favor them in the chase and keep them well 
and free from harm ; and then the eating commenced. 

I thought they had given me a larger portion than my 
age and capacity demanded, but Dufrain told me that 1 
must eat all the meat and drink all the oil and broth, 
and leave the bones in my bowl ; that a failure to do so 
would be considered an insult to the Indians and an 
offense to the Great Spirit. " But," I said, " they have 
given me more than the others, and it is impossible for 
me to swallow it all." Dufrain replied: "They have 
given you the best portion as a compliment ; you must 
receive it, and eat and drink every bit and every drop, 
otherwise we shall have trouble." "Well, you must 
help me, then," I said. "No," he replied; "I can't 
help you; each person must eat all that is given him, 
and will not be allowed to part with any portion of it; I 
am sorry for you, as well as for myself, and wish it had 
been a cub, instead of a fat bear, but I shall eat mine if 
it kills me." 

It was between eight and nine o'clock at night, and 
the fire, which furnished the only light in the lodge, was 
low, and my location was in the back part of the lodge, 
where my movements could not be easily detected. I 
wore a French capote or hood, which suggested itself to 
my mind as being my only chance for disposing of a 



86 

portion of the contents of my bowl, and I determined 
to attempt it. I felt that extreme caution was necessary, 
and no little dexterity required to slip the meat into the 
hood unobserved; but I took the first opportunity, and 
succeeded in safely depositing a piece without detection 
even by Dufrain, who sat next to me. I proceeded eat- 
ing slowly, so that no notice might be taken of the 
diminished quantity in my bowl, and soon succeeded in 
depositing another piece, and then a third, and ended by 
eating the last piece. There still remained the oil and 
broth, and I feared that my now overburdened stomach 
could not stand this addition to its load. The grease had 
soaked through the cloth of my capote, and I could feel 
it trickling down my back, and I told Dufrain, in Indian, 
that I must go out, and asked him not to let my bowl 
be tipped over while I was gone. The Indians laughed, 
and I hastily made my exit, threw the pieces Of meat to 
the dogs, and then, thrusting my fingers down my 
throat, endeavored to produce an eruption which should 
provide room for what I still had to swallow; failing in 
this attempt, however, I returned to my place in the 
lodge, and by persistent effort finally succeeded in swal- 
lowing the remainder. 

The ceremony of gathering the bones was then gone 
through with by the head of the lodge picking them up 
very carefully and depositing them in a bowl, then 
another harangue, and we were left to chat and barter 
as suited us best. 

From these Indians we learned of two camps situated 
in opposite directions, and from them engaged a guide to 
go with one of our men to one camp, and from there to 
another, we had before known of, and to return home, 



87 

where we -were to meet him. Dufrain, being well 
acquainted with the country, felt confident that he could 
go directly to the other camp in one day's travel, and I 
decided to go with him. When we lay down it was 
snowing hard, which continued through the night. We 
arose as usual before dawn of day, and partook of a nice 
dish of corn soup, which had been prepared for us by the 
good squaw^in whose lodge we had slept, and as soon as 
possible started. The snow continued falling, and being 
soft stuck to our snow-shoes and made the traveling very 
hard and fatiguing, and by ten o'clock I discovered that 
my companion was in doubt as to our whereabouts, and 
at noon we halted near a large fallen tree to strike fire for 
a smoke. When I asked him if we should reach the camps 
that night, his reply was that we should have reached the 
river by that time, which would have been more than 
half way. He said he did not know where we were, the 
woods looked strange, but perhaps that was because there 
was so much snow on the trees. It had then stopped 
snowing, though with no appearance of clearing off. 

Soon after we started the storm again commenced 
harder than ever, and I clearly saw that we were not 
going in the right direction, and ventured to tell Dufrain 
so. He was very passionate, and replied sharply that if I 
knew the way better than he I had better take the lead; 
thus rebuked, I followed on in silence. About four 
o'clock we found two tracks of snow-shoes. " Ah/' said 
Dufrain, "you see we are right; these tracks are of 
to day; there is new snow on them; had they been 
of yesterday they would have been covered over so we 
could not see them; they were made by hunters from 
the camps this morning, but we can't go further than the 



88 

river to-night. We will take the back tracks and they 
will lead us to the camps. 1 ' 

It so happened that during the earlier part of the day 
I had noticed a peculiar leaning tree, which was now in 
sight, and I told him we were lost, and would soon 
reach the log where we had stopped at noon. He could 
not believe that I was right, and on we went, but before 
dark he was convinced by our reaching the same log, 
and there we camped for the night. We both slept 
soundly, and arose refreshed. The snow still falling, we 
hesitated for some time, undecided whether to take our 
back track to the camp we had left, or to strike for the 
river in the direction we thought it to be. Knowing 
that if the snow continued, of which there was every 
prospect, our tracks would soon be obliterated, and Du- 
frain feeling confident that we could find the river and 
then know where we were, we decided to proceed. We 
traveled all day, and camped at night without having 
reached it. Again, another day's weary tramp with the 
same result, and Dufrain was willing to admit that he 
had no idea where we were. We still held our course, 
and again laid down to sleep, very tired and hungry. 

The following day Dufrain became very weak, and 
was much frightened; still snowy, clouded, and dark; 
snow fully three feet deep. When we started the next 
morning, the clouds were breaking away, and by nine 
o'clock, the sun burst forth for the first time since we 
left the Indian camp. We then saw we were traveling a 
westerly course, and changed to the north. Dufrain 
was very weak, and our progress was necessarily very 
slow. Near a creek we found a thorn-apple tree, and 
removing the snow from the ground, found a few apples, 



89 

which we devoured with a relish, and soon after struck 
the Muskegon River. Following up the river, we dis- 
covered on the opposite bank the poles of an Indian 
lodge, bark canoes, and a scaffold upon which was 
deposited matting for covering lodges. It was very cold, 
the river full of floating ice, and not fordable. Dufrain 
recognized the spot, and said that a half mile above were 
rapids, where the river could be forded. Having reached 
the rapids we crossed with great difficulty, the water in 
places being up to our waists, and the ice floating against 
us. When we reached the scaffold, our clothes were 
frozen stiff. We took down some of the mats, cleared 
the snow, and made a comfortable lodge, sufficiently 
large to shelter us. 

Dufrain carried the flint, steel, and tinder in a bag, 
and after we had gathered wood for a fire, he discovered 
that he had lost it. We were indeed in a serious pre- 
dicament, covered with ice, and shivering with cold; we 
supposed that we should certainly freeze to death. Du- 
frain abandoned all hope, and began to cross himself 
and say his prayers. I opened the bales of goods, and 
took from them what blankets and cloth they contained, 
cut more hemlock boughs, and took down more matting, 
.and then we lay down close to each other, and covered 
up with the blankets and cloth. Soon the ice on our 
clothing began to thaw from the warmth of our bodies, 
and we fell asleep, never waking until sunrise. 

We did not feel hungry, but were very weak, and 
neither felt inclined to move. We were dry and warm, 
and felt more like lying where we were and awaiting 
death than of making any further effort to save our 
lives. We knew the Indians could not be far away, and 



90 

supposed we might soon find a snow-shoe path which 
would lead us to their lodges, but were not capable of 
making the effort to save ourselves. My own reflections 
of the responsibility resting upon me, and thoughts of 
my widowed mother, brother and sisters, finally nerved 
me to make an effort. I told Dufrain that we must get 
up and go to the camps, and that I would go and recon- 
noitre, find the path and return for him ; to my great dis- 
appointment, however, I could find no snow-shoe tracks; 
but after careful search I discovered some small saplings 
broken off just above the snow, and could, by the feel- 
ing as I stepped, discover that there was a path under 
the newly fallen snow. I followed it for a short distance, 
when I saw a blaze on a tree, and knew that I was going 
in the right direction to find the camps. I returned for 
my companion, "whom I found sleeping, and seeming not 
to have moved during my absence. With great difficulty 
I aroused him and put on his snow-shoes, and then, hav- 
ing placed both packs upon the scaffold, started on the 
march. I had much trouble in keeping the path, which 
I followed by the broken twigs and an occasional blaze 
on a tree, and our progress was very slow. About noon 
we struck a fresh snow-shoe track, and this gave me 
renewed energy, for I knew it had been made by a 
hunter from the Indian camps, and that by following 
the back track I should reach the lodges. Dufrain was 
not in the least moved by this good fortune; in fact, was 
stupid and inclined to stop, frequently crossed himself, 
while his lips moved as if in prayer, and it required 
much effort and persuasion on my part to get him to 
move slowly forward, he frequently protesting that he 
could not move another step. 



91 

Intent on my progress, and for a time forgetting my 
comrade, I advanced as rapidly as possible, and on look- 
ing around for Dufrain, I found he was not in sight; I 
deliberated a moment whether to return for him or con- 
tinue on my way. My own strength was fast failing, 
and I feared that delay would be certain death. I re- 
solved, however, to make a last effort, and turned back; 
I found him lying asleep in the snow. I tried to arouse 
him, but he would open his eyes but for a moment, and 
say, " I can't; leave me." Finding my attempts useless, 
I dug away the snow, wrapped him in his blanket, with 
mine over him, and left him. 

I started forward conscious that I myself might soon 
be in the same condition, though determined not to give 
up while there was a hope. I felt no hunger, but was 
very weak; the perspiration ran from every pore, and at 
times everything seemed to waiver before me. with 
momentary darkness. I seemed almost to faint; still I 
moved on, reeling like a drunken man. Coming to new 
tracks, and hearing the barking of a dog, told me I was 
nearing a lodge, and gave me new strength to advance. 
Soon I was gladened by the glimpse of a lodge, and a few 
minutes more was seated on a bearskin within. It w^as 
a solitary hut on the bank of a creek, and in it was a 
middle-aged Indian, with his arm bandaged, and his 
squaw with three or four young children. I sat and 
awaited the usual custom of the Indians to set before a 
stranger something to eat, but seeing no move in that 
direction, I told the squaw that I was hungry and had 
not eaten for four days and nights. She exclaimed: 
"Nin guid buck-a-ta-minna baein'' (we too are hungry; 
my husband broke his arm). She opened a sack and took 



92 

out a small portion of pounded corn, which she stirred 
into a kettle of water and placed over the fire to boil, 
and soon as it was ready gave me a very small quantity, 
about half a pint, and replaced the kettle over the fire. 

I supposed I was hungry, though I did not feel so, and 
supping a little from the wooden dish found it difficult 
to swallow. This frightened me and I lay down and 
slept. 

I was awakened by the squaw, who gave me more 
soup from the kettle, which I ate with a relish and asked 
for more. "No," she said, "lie down and sleep, and I 
will awake you and give you more after awhile." This 
I did, and was awakened after dark refreshed but very 
sore and lame; took what soup was given me, and still 
wanting more; she refused me, saying, " after a little" ; 
and that she knew best how to relieve me. 

I noticed that the children frequently went out of 
doors, and that there was a look of anxiety on the coun 
tenances of both the Indian and squaw, which I thought 
was on my account; but asking, he replied that his 
oldest son went out early in the morning to try to kill 
something for them to eat, and they were fearful some 
accident had befallen him. 

Up to this time I had not spoken of Dufrain, because 
I saw there was no one to go for him, and had there been, 
he could not have been reached before dark. The moon 
would rise about midnight, and then I had determined to 
ask the squaw to go with me for him, though I had no 
idea of finding him alive. They were well acquainted 
with him, and on my telling them of his situation the 
squaw parched what corn she had left, pounded it and 
got it ready, and we made preparations to go after him. 



93 

The squaw and her husband both thought that their 
son had gone to the river to see if the canoe and scaffold 
were safe, and that it was his track that I had followed 
to the camp. While we were discussing this idea, the 
dogs barked; the children ran out, and soon returned 
with the news that their brother had returned; and he 
soon entered, bearing a cub, whereat there was great 
rejoicing. It being the first of the larger animals he 
had ever killed, it must be offered to the Great Spirit as a 
thank offering, and the boy must fast for two days. 
The father sat up and beat a drum; the boy blackened 
his face, the bear was skinned, and preparations made 
for a feast, though fortunately the feast was not to be 
similar to the one I had attended shortly before, when 
all was to be eaten. 

After hearing who I was, and that Jaco (Dufrain's 
Indian name) had been left behind, the boy volunteered 
to go with me in search of him ; and when the moon rose, 
though I was scarcely able to move, we started. The 
Indian and his wife protested against my going, insisting 
that the boy and his mother could go without me, and I 
should gladly have consented to remain had I not 
known that if my comrade was found alive no one but 
me could get him to make an attempt to move. 

The boy in his hunting had made a long detour, and 
on my describing the place where I had left Dufrain, 
he was able to reach it by a much shorter route than by 
following his tracks as I had done. In about an hour 
we reached Dufrain and found him apparently lifeless, 
but still warm. By much effort we aroused him so that 
he could speak, but he persisted in remaining where he 
was, said he was stiff and could not walk, and closed his 



94 

eyes and again dropped to sleep. It required our utmost 
effort to raise him to his feet, and by short stages to 
finally reach the camp just as the sun rose. 

We made him as comfortable as possible, and by feed- 
ing him a little every few minutes revived him. His 
feet and legs were badly swollen, so much so that I 
was obliged to rip his leggins to get them off; his feet 
were in a most terrible condition: the strings of his 
snow-shoes had so bruised his toes that blood had oozed 
out and completely saturated the neips: and. to add to 
his misery, the poor fellow was ruptured, and it was 
several days before I could replace the protruding parts. 
He gained slowly, and it was a week before he could sit 
up: and despairing of his restoration so as to be able to 
bear the journey home, with the assistance of the boy 
and his mother I constructed a tra/n-de-clese on which 
to remove him. 

During my ten days' stay I had daily caught in traps 
from one to a dozen partridges: and these, added to what 
the boy had killed, furnished us a sufficiency of food, 
though at times our rations were limited. 

I finally got my sled fully rigged, though my friend 
was -till unable to sit up more than an hour at a time. 
We had already spent more than ten days, and 1 felt 
that I could remain no longer, and a decision must be 
made, either to leave him and return for him. or draw 
him on the sled to our home. The old Indian said we 
might accomplish his removal: but he thought it ex- 
tremely doubtful, the country being very hilly and 
covered with underbrush. I left it to Dufrain to decide, 
and as he chose to go. I started, with the young Indian 
to assist me. We had a terrible journey over hills 



95 

and through thick undergrowth, and after three days of 
most severe toil reached our trading house, our invalid 
having borne the journey remarkably well. 

The other party had only returned two days before, and 
all were anxious about us, and were about organizing an 
expedition to go in search of us. I was almost worn out 
from the hardships I had endured and from dragging my 
comrade. 

Dufrain never left our cabin until we carried him to a 
canoe in the spring to start for Mackinaw. There was 
a light wind the day we started and the motion of the 
canoe caused vomiting, and before we could reach a 
harbor at White River he died, and we buried him in 
the bluff. He was very fond of card playing during his 
life, and some Indians having camped on the bluffs 
where we buried him reported that at night they heard 
his voice calling out the name of the cards as he played 
them, "corao" (diamond), "cune" (heart), etc.; and 
though the river was a great resort for the Indians in the 
spring, where they used the peculiar white clay for 
washing their blankets, for years after they avoided it, 
believing it to be haunted. 



KALAMAZOO RIVER — COSA— AN ACCIDENT — A VISIT — 
WOLF STORIES — CROOKED LAKE. 

We were among the very first of the traders to reach 
Mackinaw, and after making my returns to Mr. Stewart 
I was detailed for a time to the retail store. On Mr. 
Matthews' return from Montreal I was assigned to duty 
under him in the assorting and packing house, where 
the business was conducted in the same manner as 
previously described, and lasted until the last of July or 
first of August. 

My third winter was spent on the Kalamazoo Eiver, in 
Michigan, my trading house being on the north bank of 
the river, and opposite the present city of Kalamazoo, 
and for the first time I had full control of an "outfit." 

My crew consisted of three Canadians, who were 
accustomed to trading at that post, and an Indian 
named Cosa, well and favorably known among the 
Indians for bravery and intelligence. He had years 
before abandoned hunting, preferring to engage for the 
winter with some one of the regular traders as an 
ordinary man or voyager. He received one hundred 
dollars for his winter's service, which was considered 
a high price for so short a time, and was as much as two 

(96) 



97 

Canadians received for a whole year. But as he was 
perfectly familiar with the country, and well acquainted 
with the Indians, had a good reputation as a trader, 
and furnished two horses of his own, besides the services 
of his wife, I was glad to secure him even at that price. 

This post was a pleasant one, though the hunting 
grounds were very much scattered, which made con- 
stant watchfulness and activity necessary to secure the 
furs and dispose of goods. The winter was one of great 
hardship, and my men were constantly out collecting 
furs, and occasionally I myself made a trip. Cosa some- 
times took his wife with him in place of a man — she 
riding on one of the horses. 

One evening on their return they reported having come 
across a camp of Indians on a branch of the Paw-Paw 
River, who had an abundance of furs and peltries, but 
Cosa, being out of goods, could only get from them what 
they already owed. 

One of the Indians was very sick, and his friends had 
sent for a famous Indian doctor, who Cosa said always 
introduced his curing ceremonies by a drunken carousal. 
Cosa thought that we might get their furs if we could 
reach them ahead of the St. Joseph traders (who were 
connected with an opposition company), but he con- 
sidered a little whisky absolutely necessary to secure 
their trade. I asked him to return to their camp in the 
morning with goods only, but he said he was very tired. 
I told him that it was but a short day's journey; that he 
could take his other horse that had been resting; to pack 
his goods, and that I would go with him, and leave his 
wife to keep house. He replied that it would be of no 
use without whisky, but that if I would take the 

7 



98 

small keg he would go. He really needed two or three 
days' rest, and had the reputation of being a stubborn, 
fearless fellow, this reputation being confirmed by his 
many sears, and I did not like to command him to go. 
Heretofore he had shown a good disposition, was obedient 
and willing, and seemed to take more interest in the ex- 
pedition, and had a greater desire for good results, than 
any of the other men. and I did not like to anger him if 
it could ho avoided. I sought a private opportunity of 
consulting his wife, who confirmed all he had said, 
remarking, however, that she feared her husband could 
not refrain from joining in the ceremonies and getting 
drunk with the others. Her views decided me to accede 
to Cosa's wishes, and I said to him: "Now, Cosa, if we 
take the little keg and go to-morrow, will you promise 
to stick by me, and not taste a drop?" He promised, and 
that night two bales of merchandise, with the little two- 
gallon keg of highwines, watered one-third, were pre- 
pared; and at daylight in the morning the pony was 
brought from the v\ oods, saddled and loaded, and we 
started, Cosa taking the lead. 

I had also provided an empty one-gallon keg, and when 
about dark we arrived within hearing of the camp, I 
told Cosa that we would fill our small keg, mixed with 
half water, and hide the other, so that the , Indians 
thinking that was all we had would be the sooner satis- 
fied. To this he assented, saying it was wise. Though 
the highwines had been diluted one-third it was still 
quite strong. Having no funnel, how to further mix it 
was a dilemma, but we soon found a way. We would 
draw a mouthful from the larger keg and spit it into the 
-mailer, and then take a mouthful of water and transfer 



99 

it in the same way, Cosa and I alternating in the opera- 
tion. It would have been wiser had I done this alone; 
but I found it burned my mouth badly and so permitted 
him to aid me, and thus gave him a taste, though I 
hardly think he swallowed any at the time. The trans- 
fer having been made, we hid the larger keg and pro- 
ceeded to the camp, and to our disappointment found 
that Bartrand men bad been there the day before and 
secured all the furs and peltries except a few remnants. 

Some of the Indians had gone for the medicine man. 
while others had gone to Bartrand for whisky, which 
had been promised them in the trade. I would have 
returned had it been possible, but the horse was tired 
out. and the night very dark, so we accepted com- 
fortable quarters which were tendered us, Cosa prom- 
ising not to disclose the fact of our having whisky. 
The secret got out, however, and at early morn I was 
beset on every side. Cosa joining in the demand for the 
whisky. 

There seemed to be no way but to sell a little, so I ex- 
torted a promise from Cosa to remain with me in the 
lodge and not to drink any. and commenced collecting 
what lew furs they had in exchange for the whisky. 

Cosa did not long keep . his promise, but began to 
drink, and I saw the necessity of rehiding the larger 
keg before Cosa should reach the place. With the 
assistance of a squaw I changed the hiding place, first 
having refilled the smaller keg (which I again diluted), 
and hid it on the scaffold of the lodge I was in, and 
carefully covered it over. Cosa bad told the other 
Indians I had more whisky, and joined them in urging 
me to give it to them, stating that if I did not they 

LOfC. 



100 

would go and take it; and being refused they went with 
him in search of it. Being disappointed in their attempts 
the Indians began to separate and go to their lodges, 
and soon all was quiet in the camp. 

As my feet were wet I pulled off my moccasins and 
laid down in a wigwam with my feet to the fire. Cosa 
still importuning me for more drink, and I positively 
refusing, he, with two druken companions, after a long 
search, succeeded in finding the concealed keg. The 
squaw who assisted me in hiding the " fire water" had 
watched them, and quickly informed me of their discov- 
ery. I ran out into the snow barefooted, and succeeded 
in reaching the place before they could remove it from 
the scaffold. I told the two Indians that it was my 
property, and not theirs; that I should give them no 
more, and forbade them to touch it. They desisted, but 
Cosa, to show his independence, advanced to take the 
keg, when I seized him by the throat, threw him on his 
back, and placing my knees on his stomach, choked him 
so he could neither move nor speak, and held him thus 
until the squaw had removed the keg and again hidden 
it. I would not let him up until he promised me to lie 
down and sleep ; for a time he refused to promise; but 
as I only released my grip upon his throat long enough for 
him to answer, and then tightened it with renewed vigor, 
he was soon glad to promise, when I allowed him to arise 
and conducted him to my own comfortable quarters, 
covered him up, and lay down by his side. 

Cosa was considerably injured, and after becoming 
sober slept but little. I myself kept wide awake until 
daylight, when I arose, got the pony from the woods, 
loaded him, and as soon as we had eaten our breakfast 



101 

we departed homeward, picking up the keg on the 
way. Cosa was very hoarse from his severe choking, 
and very much mortified and humhled, and begged me 
not to tell what had taken place when we reached home; 
he was afterward very faithful and attentive to his 
duties. 

In the month of November I made a trip to Chicago, 
and had a very delightful visit of a week in Mr. Kin- 
zie's family, received my clothing which I had left there 
on my previous visit, and returned to my post . 

During the fall of this year I made a cache in the sand- 
hills at the mouth of the Kalamazoo River, in which I 
concealed many valuables, and early in the month of 
March following I took one of the men and went in a 
canoe for the articles. We found everything safe and i 1 1 
good condition, and having loaded them into the canoe 
started home. The weather was very severe for the 
jseason, and the snow still deep, which made our camp- 
ing very unpleasant, and the current being swift, we 
had much difficulty in ascending the rapids, at the fool 
of which we had made our night's camp. I had col- 
lected some fine mink, otter, and other furs at two In- 
dian camps on the route, and these, added to the articles 
taken from the cache, made a very valuable load. 

I took my position in the bow of the canoe, leaving 
my man to steer. We had passed the rapids, bul were 
still in a very strong current, when we came to a fallen 
tree lying in the river which formed a partial eddy. 
In pushing around the tree the strong current struck 
the boat sidewise, caused it to careen, and I lost my 
balance. To prevent the canoe from upsetting I allowed 
myself to go overboard and swam down the river; 



102 

the man quickly turning the head of the boat down 
stream, we both landed at the bottom of the rapids at 
the same time, where we found the fire of our previous 
camp still burning. After I had dried my clothing we 
again ascended, and reached home the following day 
without further mishap. 

Nothing unusual occurred at my post that winter fur- 
ther than I have related. 

I made a call on Rix Robinson, who was a trader on 
Grand River above Grand Rapids, also in the employ of 
the American Fur Company, and my nearest neighbor. 
It was in the month of January, a few days after a 
thaw which had flooded the river, and when I reached 
the South Branch of Grand River I found the bottoms 
flooded, but frozen hard enough to bear me up, the river 
very high and filled with floating ice, and no means of 
crossing, and I had either to return or swim for it. 
Though the day was very cold, I chose the latter, un- 
dressed, and having tied my clothing in as compact a 
bundle as possible, rested it on the back of my neck, 
holding it in place by a string between my teeth. I 
plunged in and soon landed on the opposite shore, and 
dressing myself as quickly as possible, I started on a run 
and soon became thoroughly warmed. 

It was growing late, but being on the trail leading to 
Robinson's I felt sure of reaching his house, and arrived 
on the bank of the main river opposite to it about nine 
o'clock. I hallooed a number of times, and began to 
despair of being heard, and thought I should be com- 
pelled to camp for the night almost at the door of my 
friend. I gave my last and strongest yell, aroused a 
Frenchman, who came down to the shore and answered 



103 



me, saying, in Indian, "Can't come over," and explain- 
ing that there was too much floating ice to cross. My 
answer, in French, telling who I was brought from him 
the reply, "Wail, we will come over"; alter a short 
time two men came for me in a boat, and I soon found 
myself beside a warm fire in my friend's cabin; supper 
was ordered, to which 1 did ample justice. 

Robinson was much surprised at the account of my 
crossing the river. I spent a few days very pleasantly, 
and before leaving arranged with my host to wait at the 
mouth of the river tor me on his way back to Mackinaw, 
so that we might proceed from there in company, I 
promising to be at the meeting place at an appointed 
day, not later than the tenth of May Leaving Robin- 
son's cabin at early dawn I reached my own post soon 
after dark, having traveled sixty miles. 1 had made a 
successful winter, and disposed of all my goods except 
a few remnants, and about the twentieth of April aban- 
doned my post and descended the river, stopping lor a 
day or two at the foot of the rapids, where a Large num- 
ber of Indians were assembled to catch sturgeon. 

In due time I reached Grand River, where I found 
Mr. Robinson awaiting me, and after a rest of six or 
eight days we left for Mackinaw. We were among the 
first to arrive, and after settling my account-. 1 was 
again detailed to the fur-packing house for the season. 
I had received letters from my mother telling of hei 
loneliness and of her great desire to see mc. and telt very 
badly over the news these had conveyed: and when Mr. 
Crooks told me 1 was to again return to my post on the 
Kalamazoo River. 1 asked to be discharged, giving as a 
reason that my mother was a widow, and my brothel 



104 

and. four sisters were all younger than myself, and 
needed my services and protection. I was then eighteen 
years old. and felt myself a man in all things. Mr. 
Crooks said the company could not spare me, and he 
thought I could serve my mother and family more ac- 
ceptably by remaining; told me that he had corresponded 
with my mother, and when last at Montreal intended to 
have gone to Connecticut to see her, but had not the 
time, and by his arguments prevailed upon me to re- 
main. 

I expressed my desire to again go out with the Illinois 
"brigade," giving my reasons therefor: and these, aided 
by Mr. Deschamps' solicitations (he claiming that he had 
only consented to part with me for a year, expecting me 
to return and take charge of the post on the Illinois 
Eiver), induced Mr. Crooks — though reluctantly — to give 
his consent to my going out with my old friend and 
comrade. In due course of time our •'brigade" started, 
the twelve boats led by Mr. Deschamps and the old 
familiar boat song. I was again with my old com- 
panions, all of whom gave me a cordial welcome. Day 
after day we pursued our voyage, the ever monotonous 
row, row, being varied by no incidents of interest, until 
we reached Chicago. We had made an unusually quick 
trip, having been delayed by adverse winds but two or 
three days on the entire journey. Again I was rejoiced 
with a home in Mr. Kinzie's family, and remained there 
for several days, until the "brigade" again moved for 
the Illinois River. 

The water in the rivers was unusually low this season, 
and in places the Desplaines could be crossed on foot 
without wetting the sole of the shoe; or, more properly 



105 

speaking, the skin of the foot, as covering was out of 
fashion, or had not come in, at that time. 

We were compelled to cany our goods and effects 
from the South Branch to the Desplaines on our hacks. 
leaving our empty boats to pass through the usual chan- 
nel from the South Branch to Mud Lake, and through 
that to the West End, and through the other channel. 
Having completed the portage to the Desplaines and en- 
countered the usual fatigues in descending that river, 
without unusual delay or accident we reached Bureau 
Station, where I had passed my first winter. Mr. 
Beebeau was still in charge, though he was much more 
feeble than when I last saw him, nor had his temper and 
disposition undergone any change for the better, but on 
the contrary he was more irritable and disagreeable, if 
this was possible. My friend Antoine was also there and 
delighted to see me, and we spent many hours together. 
talking over old times and recounting our hunting ex- 
perience of the winter of 1S1S-19. He had grown to 
manhood and was fully able to perform the duties and 
endure the hardships of a voyageur, in which capacity 
Mr. Deschamps engaged him for that post. He was 
greatly disappointed when he learned that 1 was not to 
winter with them but was to take the position of trader 
at a new post further down the river; he applied to Mr. 
Deschamps to be transferred to my post, but this was re- 
fused him, Mr. Deschamps stating to me that he feared 
I would not have the obedience from him that my posi- 
tion required, owing to our previous intimate relations 
in which he had been both my companion and equal. I 
saw the justice of this and acquiesced in his decision. 
Before parting, however, Antoine and I took a day's 



106 

hunting together, tramping over ground which had be- 
come so familiar two years before, and recalling many 
pleasant incidents of those happy days. 

After resting a few days, and selecting the goods and 
men to be left at that post, we proceeded on our way, 
making our next halt at Fort Clark (Peoria), where we 
found several families had located, among whom were 
Mr. Fulton, the first pioneer settler at that point, who 
still resides in that county ; a Mr. Bogardus, brother of 
General Bogardus, of New York, a highly intelligent 
gentleman, and his estimable and accomplished wife. 

Two miles below, at a point now known as Wesley 
City, was Mr. Beason's post, and there we remained 
about one week, during which time I went almost 
daily to the fort. 

WOLF STORIES. 

A melancholy incident occurred there during the win- 
ter. On the river bottom opposite Beason' s post were a 
half-dozen or more lodges of Pottawatomies. An aged 
squaw, accompanied by a young granddaughter, was 
returning from an absence from the camp, and when 
at Kickapoo Creek they were attacked by a large female 
timber wolf and her cubs. The little girl escaped, and 
running home reported to her brother, who immediately 
started to the old squaw's rescue. On reaching the 
place he found the wolves had killed his grandmother 
and were feasting upon her flesh. Though armed only 
with a tomahawk and knife, he boldly attacked the 
animals and succeeded in driving them away from her 
body, but not without being himself badly bitten, and,. 



107 

indeed, I doubt not he would have departed for the 
" happy hunting grounds" by the same route his grand- 
mother had taken had he not been reinforced by his 
friends, who had learned of his peril. 

It is rarely that a wolf will attack a human being, 
unless closely pressed or famishing with hunger. I re- 
member that once when Noel Yasseur and myself were 
eating our lunch at Blue Island, while our horses Avere 
grazing, a wolf came so close to us that Yasseur toma- 
hawked him. 

Another time, Jacques Jombeaux and myself had 
camped for the night, and before lying down I went to 
look after my horse, which I had spanceled on the 
prairie. I found him feeding quietly, and returning. I 
noticed what I supposed to be an Indian dog following 
me. I called and whistled to him, but he paid no atten- 
tion to the noise. When I reached the camp I told 
Jacques that there was a camp of Indians near, as I 
had been followed by one of their dogs, and that he 
must hang up the provisions. He hung them on a 
sapling close by our camp fire. We were lying with 
our feet close to the fire when my supposed dog came 
up and put his forefeet on the sapling in his efforts to 
get our meat. The light of the fire showed him to be 
a prairie wolf, and enabled Jacques to shoot him with 
his rifle. 

I knew of an Indian who was lived by a pack oi 
wolves, and there kept for eighteen or more hours, 
until his comrade, becoming alarmed at his absence, 
found and relieved him. 

We left Beason's and proceeded on our way to othei 
stations down the river. Mr. Deschamps decided to 



108 

establish a new post at the mouth of Crooked Creek, and 
to locate me in charge. We soon agreed upon the spot 
on which to build my house, and my outfit having been 
unloaded Mr. Deschamps proceeded on his way. 

We first constructed a pen of logs, the sides of which 
were about six feet high, within which was packed my 
goods; these were covered with sails and tarpaulins. Our 
camp was made on the south side of the inclosure, 
both for convenience and the better protection of the 
goods. These arrangements having been completed we 
proceeded immediately to build a good-sized trading 

house. 

Before reaching this place I had felt symptoms of 
ague, loss of appetite with slight chills; still I managed 
to keep up, and my house-building progressed so well 
that by the time of Deschamps' return it was up and 
the store part covered, so that the goods could be moved 
into it. Mr. Deschamps thought my symptoms denoted 
bilious fever and prescribed for me accordingly. 

My fever continued to increase, and I became very 
sick, was unable to sit up, and daily grew worse. 

Two Frenchmen, who had been shooting geese and 
swans at Portage de Sioux, came down the Illinois 
River in a large pirogue, on their way to St. Louis to 
market their game. Though their boat was heavily 
laden, by promising to pay for the game they would be 
compelled to leave to make room for me, and also to 
pay liberally for my passage, I succeeded in persuading 
them to take me as a passenger to St. Louis, where I 
felt compelled to go to consult a physician, and their ar- 
rival seemed providential. 

While the men were eating I made preparations for my 



109 

departure. Calling my interpreter, I told him of my de- 
termination, and instructed him that should I fail to re- 
turn by a certain day he should send word to Mr. Des- 
champs and ask for orders. My men went to work 
with a will moving and repacking the game so as to 
give sufficient room for me in the boat without leaving 
any part of the load, and I was carried and placed in 
the boat, in as comfortable a position as could be found. 

The wind was from the south, and the river very 
rough; the motion of the boat caused me to vomit 
excessively and I soon became unconscious. The men 
carried me along until they came to a settler's cabin 
near the bank of the river, and supposing me to be dying, 
took me ashore, Left me there, and pursued their journey. 
I do not know how long I was unconscious, but when I 
awoke I found myself in bed, while a young girl was sit- 
ting by fanning me. She jumped up and called her 
mother, who coming in. cautioned me not to get excited, 
gave me some tea. and while 1 was drinking it told me 
where I was and how I came there. Prom that time I 
improved rapidly, and in the course of a week or ten 
days I was able to start on foot for my trading house, 
about thirty-five miles distant, which 1 reached in two 
days, much to the joy and astonishment of my men. I 
can not conceive why I have lost from my memory the 
name of those hospitable people, who took me into 
their house and nursed me so kindly, butsoitis, and their 
name 1 can not remember. I never saw them but once 
afterward. 

I found my house was nearly completed. I had a good 
appetite, and increased daily in strength, so that 1 was 
soon able to hunt on the river bottom, ranging two or 



110 

three miles from the house. One bright November morn- 
ing I started out for a turkey hunt, and soon came across 
some fresh horse tracks which I supposed were those of 
Indian ponies, and gave them no further thought; but at 
a little creek I saw the tracks again, and in a muddy spot 
I noticed the fresh impression of a horse-shoe, and so fol- 
lowed their trail, and after about a mile travel came up 
with the riders and found them to be Mr. John Wood 
and Mr. Tilden. on their way to the military tract to 
locate soldiers' land-warrants. I thought they were lost 
(though the Governor always denied it), as they were not 
in the direct course, and their tracks made a strange cir- 
cuit for persons knowing their whereabouts. I led them 
to my house and prepared for them the best meal in my 
power, of which they ate very heartily and with decided 
relish. Governor Wood lias often told me that it was the 
best meal he ever ate. I am quite willing to believe it was 
good, and flatter myself that the cooking I did in those 
days, if not in the style of a French cook, was, for plain 
food, deserving of great praise. I have never tasted of 
any roast turkey that seemed to me so excellent as those 
fat wild ones killed and prepared by my own hands. 

I used to hang them in front of my large lire place sus- 
pended 1 >y a string, and gently turn them with a long- 
stick until they were nicely browned, and then with fat 
raccoon or bear meat boiled, I had a dinner tit for a king. 
My new found friends left me in the afternoon though I 
tried hard to detain them; like most of the enterprising 
"Yankees" of those early days they could not be 
stayed. Both of these gentlemen located in Quincy, Illi- 
nois, became prominent citizens, and final y died there. 
Mr. Wood was at one time Governor of the State of Illi- 



1 1 1 

nois, and I ever considered him as one of my warmesl 
friends. 

My house was soon completed and furnished with floor, 
three-legged stools, table, and bunks, all made of punch- 
eons. It was lighted by a window in the south end, made 
of two sheets of foolscap paper nicely greased; and with 
a fine large clay chimney that would take in a six -toot 
log, I felt that the cold or storms of winter could have 
no terrors for me. 

I was now fully recovered in health, and all my care and 
anxiety was for the success of the winter's trade. 



ATTACKED BY AN INDIAN — ALEXIS ST. MARTIN- 
SLEEPING BEAR. 

The Indians were Kickapoos and Delaware*, and being 
a stranger among them, I was forced to depend on my 
interpreter, who was well acquainted with them, to know 
whom to trust. 

It was our custom to give the Indian hunters goods on 
credit, in the fall of the year, so that they might give 
their whole time to the hunt, and, indeed, it would have 
been difficult, if not impossible, for them to hunt without 
the necessary clothing, guns, and amunition. The con- 
ditions of this credit were that these advances should be 
paid from the proceeds of their first winter's hunt, but 
should they fail to pay, after having devoted all their 
furs for the purpose, and shown a disposition to act 
honestly, the balance was carried over to the next 
year, but this balance was seldom paid. The debtors 
reasoned that, having appropriated the entire proceeds 
of their season' s hunt to the liquidation of their indebt- 
edness, it was the fault of the Great Spirit that they had 
not been able to pay in full, and so they considered the 
debt canceled. We were very careful who we trusted. 

(112) 



113 

We satisfied ourselves first, that the person' s intentions 
were honest, and that he was industrious and persever- 
ing ; and, second, that he was a skilled hunter and 
trapper, and knew where to find game in abundance. 
If he lacked in these qualifications he was deemed 
unworthy of credit, at least to a large amount. 

I was applied to for credit by an Indian whom my 
interpreter said "never paid," or if he paid at all, it was 
only a portion of his indebtedness. I accordingly 
refused him, at which he was greatly angered and 
threatened revenge. 

One morning shortly after, I was sitting alone before 
the fire in my cabin, on a three-legged stool made of 
puncheons, reading a book, when the Indian returned and 
stole softly into the room, and up behind me, with his 
tomahawk raised to strike me. I did not hear him, but 
saw his shadow, and looking up quickly saw him, and 
threw up my left arm just in time to arrest the blow. The 
handle of the tomahawk striking my arm, it was thrown 
from his hand and fell on the floor close to the fire-place. 
The corner of the blade cut through my cap and into 
my forehead — the mark of which I still carry — while 
my arm was temporarily paralyzed from the blow. I 
sprang to my feet just as he reached to his belt to draw 
a knife, and throwing my arms around his body, gnisped 
my left wrist with my right hand, and held him so 
firmly thai he could not draw his knife. I allowed him 
to throw me down on the floor, and roll me over and 
over in his exertions to liberate himself and reach his 
knife, while I made no exertions except to keep my 
grip. I bled profusely from the wound on my forehead, 
and my eyes were frequently blinded by the blood, 



114 

which I wiped off as well as I could on his naked body. 
It was fully five minutes before my arm began to recover 
sensitiveness, and a much longer time before I recovered 
its full use. 

My grasp was weakening, yet I clung on afraid to 
trust to my lame arm. My opponent was breathing very 
heavily, and I knew he was exhausting his strength in his 
efforts to rid himself of my embrace, while I was saving- 
mine. When my arm had sufficiently recovered, and we 
had rolled up to where the stool lay, I let go of him, and 
seizing the stool struck him a stunning blow upon the 
head, which I followed up with others on his head and 
face, until he showed no further signs of life, when I 
seized him by his long hair and dragged him out of doors, 
whooping for my men, who soon made their appearance. 
Just thenjiis squaws appeared on the scene. He had come 
on his pony, telling them he was going to kill Hubbard, 
and they had followed on as rapidly as they could on 
foot. . They bathed his head with cold water, and, greatly 
to my relief, soon restored him to consciousness. I reflected 
that I had punished him too severely, and regretted that 
I had done more than to strike him the first blow and 
then disarm him. My men were greatly alarmed, and 
especially so was my interpreter, whom I sent to the chief 
of the band to explain the case. 

The chief returned with my man and blamed me for 
injuring him so severely, thinking it would result in his 
death. However, he used his influence with the band in 
my favor, telling them the goods were mine, and that I 
had a perfect right to refuse to sell them on credit and 
to defend myself when attacked, and they soon separated 
for their winter hunting grounds, much to my relief. 



115 

The injured Indian did not recover so as to do any hunt- 
ing that winter, and occasionally sent me a message 
demanding pay for his injuries, which I positively refused, 
much to the dissatisfaction of my confidential man. 

The winter passed and we were ready to break up, 
daily expecting orders from Mr. Deschamps to start on 
the return trip to Mackinaw. The Indians had returned 
from their hunting grounds and were camped some five 
or six miles from us. They had mostly paid up, though 
the winter had not been a successful one for them. 

The chief was a young man, and had become very 
friendly to me. He advised me to give presents to the 
Indian I had injured ; but I still persisted in my refusal, 
determined to risk the consequences rather than to pay .1 
man for attempting to kill me. This was reported To my 
enemy, who had fully recovered his strength, and exas- 
perated him still further. One morning he came with 
two of his friends, all with blackened faces, a token of 
war, and demanded of me pay for his injuries. I again 
refused, telling him that it was his own fault; that he 
came upon me stealthily, and would have killed me had I 
not discovered him just in time to save myself. While 
thus talking I heard the tramp of horses, caused by the 
arrival of the chief and others of the band, \\ ho, hearing 
of his intention to seek revenge, had hastened To try To 
effecT a friendly arrangement. 

On entering I stated to the chief the demand made 
upon me, and my refusal. ; 1 1 id that now lie and his friends 
had come like men, and not like squaws, and that this 
time I was prepared for them. 

"I came," 1 said, "among you with goods for your 
accommodation ; trade \\;is my object, and I have as much 



116 

right to do as I please with my goods as you have with 
the pony you ride. You would not allow any one to take 
him without your consent ; and, should any one attempt 
to take him by force, would you not defend yourself? 
Or would you, like a coward, give him up '. Say, would 
you?" "'No," he replied. "Neither did I, nor will I. 
I am very sorry for what I did — I mean, the result, 
causing the loss of his winter' s hunt ; but I will not pay 
him for it. ' ' The chief said to them, ' ' The trader is right ; 
the goods were his ; he would not trust because our friend 
(pointing to the interpreter) said you never paid. We 
all know that is true." After a moment of silence the 
Indian extended his hand to me, which I took. " Now," 
I said, "we are friends, and I wish to give you some 
evidence of my friendship, not to pay you, but only as a 
token of my good will." We all had a smoke, and I 
presented him with articles he most needed, much to his 
surprise. And so that difficulty was ended, much to the 
satisfaction of my men, who were fearful that great 
trouble would result from it. 

About ten days after the above settlement I received 
orders from Mr. Deschamps to vacate my post and 
join the "brigade" at Beason's post. There Ave remained 
a week or more, during which time I formed an intimate 
acquaintance with the settlers at Peoria. 

About the first of April we resumed our journey toward 
Mackinaw, proceeding leisurely, and reaching Chicago in 
due season, where, as usual, I found a warm welcome from 
the Kinzie family and officers of the fort. A week or ten 
days was thus joyfully spent, and I deeply regretted the 
day of our departure. 

Coasting, as before, the east shore of Lake Michigan, 



117 

we arrived at Mackinaw early in June. On the sixth of 
that month I was present when Alexis St. Martin was 
shot, and am probably the only living person who wit- 
nessed the accident. 

The late Major John H. Kinzie had charge of the 
American Fur Company's retail store at Michilimackinac. 
I was in the habit of assisting him occasionally when a 
press of customers needed extra clerks. The store com- 
prised the ground floor near the foot of Fort Hill, on the 
corner of the street and the road leading up to the fort. 
The rear part of the store was underground, built of stone, 
which is still standing. 

This St. Martin was at the time one of the American 
Fur Company's engagees, who, with quite a number of 
others, was in the store. One of the party was holding a 
shot-gun ( not a musket ), which was accidentally dis- 
charged, the whole charge entering St. Martin's body. 
The muzzle was not over three feet from him — I think not 
over two. The wadding entered, as well as pieces of his 
clothing ; his shirt took fire ; he fell, as we supposed, 
dead. 

Dr. Beaumont, the surgeon of the fort, was immedi- 
ately sent for, and reached the wounded man within a 
very short time—probably three minutes. We had just 
got him on a cot and were taking off some of his clothing. 

After Dr. Beaumont had extracted part of the shot, 
pieces of clothing, and dressed his wound carefully — 
Robert Stewart and others assisting— he left him, remark- 
ing, "The man can't live thirty-six hours; 1 will come 
and see him bye and bye." In two or three hours he 
visited him again, expressing surprise at finding him 
doing better than lie anticipated. 



118 

The next day, I think, he resolved on a course of treat- 
ment, and brought down his instruments, getting out more 
shot and clothing, cutting off ragged ends of the wound, 
and made frequent visits, seeming very much interested, 
informing Mr. Stewart in my presence that he thought 
he could save him. 

As soon as the man could be moved he was taken to 
the fort hospital, where Dr. Beaumont could give him 
better attention. About this time, if I am not greatly 
mistaken, the doctor announced that he was treating 
his patient with a view to experimenting on his 
stomach, being satisfied of his recovery. You know the 
result. 

I knew Dr. Beaumont very well. The experiment of 
introducing food into the stomach through the orifice 
purposely kept open and healed with that object, was 
conceived by the doctor very soon after the first 
examination. 

My duties in the assorting and packing warehouse 
that summer gave me but little time for recreation. In 
fact, until after six o'clock in the evening, I had no time 
to myself, and I frequently worked until midnight. 
Sunday afternoon was the only time at which I felt 
fully at leisure to visit my friends, and that was passed 
cither at Mrs. Fisher s, Mrs. La Fromboise's, Mrs. Mitch- 
ell's, Mr. Davenport's or Mr. Dousman's, at any of which 
places I was ever a welcome visitor. Thus was completed 
the fourth year of my life as an Indian trader. 

Early in the fall I left Mackinaw in the usual way 
for my fifth winter in the Indian country. By request 
of Mr. Crooks we invited a gentleman to accompany us, 
who desired to visit Southern Illinois, lie was a gentle- 



119 

man of intelligence; in figure, tall and gaunt, and pos- 
sessed of one of those inquisitive minds which ever 
denotes the genuine "Yankee." He was continually 
asking questions and wanting an explanation of every 
thing he saw or heard, and did not hesitate to pry into 
our private affairs and investigate our personal charac- 
teristics. He was exceedingly awkward in his positions 
in the boat and camp, and could never accustom himself 
to sitting "tailor fashion." His limbs and body were 
in a continuous change of " sprawl." and at times inter- 
fering with the motions of the oarsman and forcing an 
involuntary "sacre" from the voyageurs, who were pro- 
verbial for politeness and natural grace. To them he 
became alternately an amusement and an annoyance, 
and as he could not understand their language, numer- 
ous jokes were indulged in at his expense, and he was 
nicknamed "LaBeaute." 

At one time we were caught in a wind-storm which 
compelled us to land and draw our boats up on the 
beach. On such occasions it was customary for the men 
to carry the Bourgeois ashore on their back. Our guest 
straddled the shoulders of one of the men, who pur- 
posely fell, taking care that his rider should fall under 
him and become completely submerged, at the same time 
exclaiming, "Mon Dieu, monsieur, excusez mpi," and 
quickly helping him to his feet continued his apologies. 
Seeing our friend completely drenched, tic water drip- 
ping from his clothing, and his hat floating oh* <>n the 
waves while the voyageur seemed so sincere in his apolo- 
gies, was too much for our silent endurance, and we all 
broke out into peals of laughter, in which our dripping 
passenger heartily joined. His company was agreeable 



120 

to all save the voyageurs and he was always invited to 
choose which boat he preferred to ride in for the day. 

We reached Calf River without any particular incident, 
where we camped, and on the following morning I invited 
our friend to walk with me to the top of ' ' Sleeping Bear, ' ' 
and join the boats when they reached its base. " Sleeping- 
Bear" was a high bluff, six or eight hundred feet above the 
lake. With the exception of a small clump of trees, its top 
was a naked plain of sand without vegetation of any kind. 
Its lake front was very steep, and it was with great diffi- 
culty and exertion that it could be ascended; the loose 
sand into which one sank several inches at each step, 
slid downward carrying one with it, so that progress was 
slow and tedious. To walk down was impossible unless 
one went backward, and in a stooping posture. It was 
real sport to go down, by quick successive jumps, and 
fortunate was the individual who could accomplish it 
without losing his balance, falling over and rolling to the 
bottom, where he arrived with mouth, nose, and ears filled 
with the fine shifting sand, though there was little or no 
danger of anything more serious. 

We reached the summit, and after viewing the lake 
and country, and our boats having arrived at the base, I 
said to my friend, " We must descend by jumps; take as 
long leaps as you can, and donH stop; follow me"; and 
with a loud "whoop " to attract the attention of the 
boatmen, I went down by quick jumps, but before reach- 
ing the bottom heard the shouts of the voyageurs, and 
though I could not look back, I knew full well the cause. 
When I had arrived at the bottom, I looked back and 
saw r my companion struggling and rolling, while the 
sand flew in every direction. He landed close to my feet 



121 

pale and frightened, but otherwise unharmed. The 
men screamed with laughter, much, as I thought, 
to the annoyance of our passenger, though he made no 
complaint, and having been brushed off, took his seat in 
the boat, and we proceeded on our way. 

This incident served for a standing joke, and many 
times was the laughter renewed when the ludicrous 
affair was again presented to our minds. Although we 
had enjoyed ourselves so much at his expense, we 
learned to like him for his many good qualities, and 
when we parted with him at Peoria, it was with many 
and sincere regrets. 

Our trip was a tedious one, we being kept many days in 
camp by heavy adverse winds. We were nearly a month 
in reaching Chicago, where, as usual, I was welcomed 
by my friends, the Kinzies, w|io, with Dr. Wolcott, 
rendered me many kind services. 

At Chicago I found Pierre Chouteau, Jr. , of St. Louis, 
whose acquaintance I had formed several years before, 
and who now proposed that I should enter their employ 
at the expiration of my engagement with the American 
Fur Company ; during my two weeks' stay we became 
very intimate. The officers of the fort were good com- 
panions, and I passed much of my time with them, and 
very pleasantly, and much regretted the time of parting. 

We encountered the usual trials and hardships between 
Chicago and Starved Rock, and in due season arrived at 
Bureau Post, where I had passed my first winter, and 
Mr. Beebeau having died since our departure the previous 
spring, I was placed in charge. 

An opposition trader named Antoine Bourbonais, who 
was supplied with goods from St. Louis, had located 



122 

there. He was a large, portly man, and for one of his 
years, was very energetic, and was an old, experienced 
trader. Mr. Deschamps told me of his virtues and fail- 
ings, warned me of his tricks, and cautioned me as to my 
intercourse with him. My old Indian friends, Wa-ba 
and Shaub-e-nee, were also here to welcome me. 

It was late in the season when we arrived, and Bour- 
bonais had already been located for more than a month, 
and in him I found a strong competitor. He was pos- 
sessed of a "foxy" sharpness, was fond of his cups, and 
when under their influence, inclined to be quarrelsome. 
I was as friendly toward him as could be expected, and 
while we treated each other with respect, we watched 
each other closely, each striving to supply the best 
hunters with their winter outfits, and in this we exer- 
cised all the secresy and strategy in our power; but after 
the Indians had received their supplies and departed to 
their hunting grounds, our intercourse was very friendly. 

The time soon arrived when we were to visit the 
camps of the Indians in the interior and endeavor to 
secure their furs, collect the amounts with which they 
had been credited, and sell to them the goods which we 
carried with us. Bourbonais had five or six horses, while 
I had none, which of course gave him a great advantage, 
as he could pack his goods onto the horses, and return 
with his furs in the same manner, while I depended on 
the backs of my men. 

With a light load, my men could travel as fast as the 
horses, that depended for their subsistence on foraging 
on the half -dead grass of the bottom lands. 

To know when and where an expedition was to go 
was very necessary, and every strategy was resorted to, 



123 

and considered perfectly fair, to conceal these facts from 
each other. As a consequence, we watched each other 
constantly, sometimes quarreled, though never coming 
to blows, quickly becoming friendly again, and frequently 
telling how one had outwitted the other in the course 
of trade. We both had a laborious and exciting winter, 
though neither cut the prices on leading articles. 

At one time, I learned from an Indian that Bourbonais 
was packing up'some bales of goods, and we had noticed 
that he had gathered his horses in from their feeding 
grounds ostensibly to salt them, all of which led me to 
suspect that an expedition was being fitted out, and I 
detailed a man to watch. Just before daylight, my man 
reported that two horses were loaded with goods and 
another saddled, which convinced me that Bourbonais 
was himself going, as he usually rode, being too clumsy 
to walk. To ascertain where they were going, I hired 
an Indian, who happened to be at my house, to follow 
at a 'distance, pretending to hunt, until they should 
leave the timber and take their course over the prairie. 

In the meanwhile, I prepared three bales of goods, of 
twenty-five pounds each, and detailed three ol' my men 
to carry them, giving Noel Vasseur charge of the expe- 
dition, with instructions to take the track and overtake 
Bourbonais that day, and, if possible, pass him without 
being seen ; but if unable to do that, to cam}) with him 
for the night. The Indian rel inning, reported the course 
the expedition had taken, and we then knew that they 
were bound for one of two hunting bands, but which 
one we could not tell. 

Vasseur started with his men and soon came in sight 
of Bourbonais and his party, but being on the open 



124 

prairie could not pass them without being noticed, and 
so decided to overtake them by dark, and camp with or 
near them. Bourbonais, finding his secret discovered, 
extended his usual hospitality to Vasseur and party, and 
after they had finished their suppers, offered them a dram, 
which was gladly accepted. Vasseur and he chatted and 
drank, until by daylight the old man was dead drunk. 
Vasseur had gained a knowledge of their destination, 
and with his companions started for the Indian camps, 
knowing full well that Bourbonais could not get sobered 
up and catch his horses on the range in time to overtake 
them. By hard marching Vasseur found the camp, col- 
lected some of the debts, and bought all the surplus furs 
and peltries by the time Bourbonais reached the camp. 
The old man was much mortified and angered when he 
discovered how he had been outwitted, but soon got over 
it, and together he and Vasseur, visited the other band, 
collected their credits, and returned home. In this man- 
ner the winter was passed. 

On Mr. Deschamps' return he bought Bourbonais' 
furs, engaged him in the . service of the American Fur 
Company, and he was afterwards stationed at Kankakee, 
where he died. Mr. Deschamps was well satisfied with the 
result of my winter 1 s trade, it being much better than he 
had anticipated. The season had been an unusually good 
one, and we had accumulated more furs and peltries 
than our boats could carry up the Desplaines Kiver, and 
I was accordingly dispatched with four boat loads to 
Chicago ; these I stored with Mr. John Crafts, and 
returned to the "brigade," when we all moved forward 
on our annual return to Mackinaw. A portion of our furs 
were shipped from Chicago, for the first time, in a small 
schooner which had brought supplies for the garrison. 



PA-PA-MA-TA-BE — FROM ST. JOSEPH TO THE KANKAKEE — 

— >k HUBBARD'S TRAIL"— UNDER THE ICE — 

PEORIA AND ST. LOUIS. 

In the month of March (1823), I had occasion to go 
alone to see some Indians who were camped at ' ' Big 
Woods" on Fox River, in Du Page County, west of 
Chicago. 

After I had transacted my business with them, and the 
evening before my return home, an Indian who belonged 
to another band, which was camped about ten miles 
distant, came into the wigwam where I was. and said 
he was going to my trading house. I gave him some 
supper, and told him I should start in the morning and 
that he could accompany me, to which he assented. We 
started in the morning as early as we could see to travel, 
and found the ground soft and muddy, and the walking 
hard and tedious, but I noticed that nay companion 
walked very fast. 

About noon he stopped to smoke, but having made up 
my mind that he wanted to race, I kept on as fast as 
possible and got a long distance ahead of him. 

When I reached the Illinois River above Hennepin, 
and opposite my trading house, I discovered that the 

(125) 



126 

canoe which I had left there had been stolen. The bot- 
tom lands were overflowed from the river to the bluffs. 
I finally got upon a log, and by pulling on the bushes and 
pushing with a stick, managed to propel it to the bank 
of the river. 

I shouted to my men, and waited a long time for 
them to answer, but receiving no response, I jumped in 
and swam across, reaching my house about dark. 

The following morning I sent my men back across the 
river to look for the Indian; they found him with a 
party of others on horseback, very much chagrined and 
disappointed at his defeat. I then learned that the 
band which I had visited had made a wager with the 
band to which my companion of the day before belonged 
that I could outwalk any one they could produce, and 
they had planned the race without intending that I 
should know of it. 

The distance walked that day is seventy-five miles, 
in a direct line, according to the present survey. I 
suffered no inconvenience from it, though the Indian 
was very lame for a day or so. 

Some have doubted that I could have walked so great 
a distance, but I was then young and in my prime, and 
had long had the reputation among the Indians of being a 
very rapid traveler, and had, in consequence, been named 
by them Pa-pa-ma-ta-be, " The Swift Walker." 

It was a well-known fact, at that time, that Pierre Le 
Claire, who carried the news of the war of 1812, was sent 
by Major Eobert Forsythe to his uncle, Mr. John Kinzie, 
at Chicago, and that he walked from the mouth of St. 
Joseph Eiver around Lake Michigan to Chicago, a dis- 
tance of ninety miles, in one continuous walk. 



127 

He arrived at Mr. Kinzie's, ate his supper, and crossed 
over the river to report to the officers of Fort Dearborn, 
before nine o'clock at night, having started before day- 
light from St. Joseph river. 



We made our usual stay in Chicago, I among my good 
friends, and without incident worthy of note, arrived in 
due season at Mackinaw. I was placed in entire charge 
of the receiving of furs, assorting and packing them for 
shipment. It was a full two months' work, of hard, 
fatiguing duty. All the furred skins, except muskrats 
and wolves, had each to pass my inspection, and when 
examined, all the finer, fancy furs, were to be assorted 
as to shades of color, as well as to fineness of fur. I was 
furnished with assistants who, after I had assorted the 
furs, counted and delivered them to the packers to press, 
tie, mark, and store, ready for shipment, one hundred 
voyageurs being detailed for this duty. The roll was 
called regularly at six o'clock in the morning, and with 
the exception of one hour's intermission at noon, our 
labors were incessant until six at night. 

After the day's labor was ended, I was required to 
make up an account showing the total of that day's 
work. The statement for each outfit was kept separate 
on my packing-house book, from which it was drawn 
off by myself or one of my assistants, and filed with the 
book-keeper in the general office. 

Complaints were frequently made that I assorted too 
closely, and not unfrequently Mr. Stewart would himself 
re-assort, with the manager of the "brigade," who was 
interested in making his returns appear as Large as pos- 
sible, but usually my assort ,ing was approved. I made 



128 

it an invariable rule never to open and re-assort a 
pack. 

The different outfits were required to furnish me a list 
of their packs, their contents, and number of skins unas- 
sorted. One of my assistants opened each pack and 
counted the skins, and if found to be short it was his 
duty to notify the chief of the " outfit " or his represent- 
ative, who was usually present, in order that his count 
might be corrected, and my returns when made agree 
with his, and errors and dissatisfaction be thus prevented. 

I was glad to reach the close of this summer's duties. 
It was very fatiguing work to stoop over and assort 
from morning until night. I had no time for rest or re- 
creation until the last skin was in pack ready for 
shipment. 

The packs were very neatly put up in frames, nearly 
square in form, and intended to weigh about one hun- 
dred pounds each. It required much practice before the 
men selected for that purpose became experts. The 
skins must be placed in proper positions, evenly distrib- 
uted, so as to make the pack press equally, the ends 
built up straight, so as to show no depressions or elonga- 
tions, and a failure in either of these particulars necessi- 
tated repacking. 

The different kinds of skins were packed in different 
ways, each kind having its own peculiar manner of fold- 
ing, while all packs were » required to be of the same 
size ; and when taken from the press, they resembled 
huge reams of paper, so even and uniform were the ends 
and sides. We used screw presses, worked by hand, 
and if a pack came from the press without filling all the 
requirements, it was repacked and repressed. Each pack 



129 

was then numbered, and an invoice of its contents made, 
which received the same number. 

Adjoining the warehouse was a large yard, into which 
the packs were received when brought from the Indian 
country and in which they were opened. Each skin 
was thoroughly beaten to rid it of bugs and dust, and if 
damp it was dried, and then carried into the warehouse 
for assorting, counting, and packing. About the middle 
of August my work was completed, and I was at liberty 
to use my time as I chose. I employed it in visiting my 
friends, and thus improved it to the last m< tment. Again 
we were ready to depart on our monotonous lake 
voyage, coasting as usual the east shore of Lake Mich- 
igan, and meeting with no incident worthy of mention 
until we reached St. Joseph, where we were detained 
for several days by head winds. My destination had 
been decided by Mr. Deschamps to be the Iroquois 
country. We knew that it was but a short distance 
from a bend of the St. Joseph River to the Kankakee 
River, and I determined to endeavor to pass my boats 
and goods overland to the Kankakee, and thus save the 
remainder of the journey to Chicago, as well as the 
delays and hardships of the old route through Mud 
Lake and the Desplaines. 

From Mr. Burnett, who lived a little more than a mile 
from where we were then camped, I learned that tin- 
Indians near Bartrand trading house had ponies on 
which my goods could be packed, and he thought the 
Indians would also undertake to pass my boats across, 
suggesting that by hitching the tails of the ponies to the 
boats they could be made to help considerably. 

Having concluded a favorable arrangement with the 



130 

Indians, I undertook the venture, telling Mr. Deschamps 
that if I failed, I would return and overtake him at 
Chicago. 

I selected my men, among them being Noel Vasseur, 
in whom I had the utmost confidence, wrote a letter to 
my good friends, the Kinzies, telling them of the change 
in my plans, and that I would visit them after I got 
settled in my winter quarters. I sent also to Mr. Kinzie 
my best clothes for safe keeping. 

Everything being in readiness, I started early on the 
following morning, and soon passed an old Jesuit mission, 
afterwards occupied by Mr. Coy. We halted a short time 
at Bartrand's, and from him I received full information 
about the Kankakee River, and he tendered me every 
assistance in his power in making the crossing. Pro- 
ceeding to the place of leaving the St. Joseph I met the 
Indians with their ponies, and following the suggestion 
of Mr. Burnett, cut poles and lashed them across the 
boats, which had been unloaded, at the bow and stern. 
We then wove and tied the ponies' tails securely to the 
poles at the stern, and tied their heads to the ones at the 
bow. In order that the boats might move more easily, 
we placed rollers under them, and then the Indians and 
squaws commenced urging the ponies forward. For 
some time they were awkward and stubborn, some 
would pull, while others would not, but by patience and 
perseverance, the men also pulling, we finally got them 
started and advanced for a hundred or more yards, when 
the ponies came to a dead stand. We again applied the 
rollers and the muscles of the men, and succeeded in 
making another start, and the ponies becoming accus- 
tomed to the work, soon got so they would make a quarter 



of a mile at a stretch, and in this manner we passed 
our boats over and launched them into the Kankakee 
Eepacking our goods and loading them into the boats, we 
were soon ready to embark. We found the Kankakee 
narrow and crooked, with sufficient water to float our 
boats, but with very little current. 

Our progress under oars was at the rate of fifty or 
sixty miles a day, and we met with no obstacles until we 
readied the upper rapids or shoals, where the village of 
Momence is now located. 

From that point, shallow water continued at intervals 
until we reached the mouth of the Iroquois River, which 
river we ascended to a trading house, located a short 
distance below the present village of Watseka, which 
was our destination. 

The Messrs. Ewing, then of Ft. Wayne, had a trading- 
house further up the river, and opposite the present vil- 
lage of Iroquois. This house was in charge of one Cha- 
bare, and it was for the purpose of opposing him that I 
had been detailed. Our house was soon put in a habita- 
ble condition, and my first leaving it was for the purpose 
of visiting Mr. Chabare, with whom, during the entire 
winter, I continued on friendly relations. 

Having made friends with the Indians, to whom I gave 
liberal credits, and having noted where they severally 
intended making their hunting camps, I slipped away for 
a week's visit to Chicago, principally to see my good 
friends the Kinzies, having as usual a very agreeable 
visit, and promising to return at Christmas time, which, 
however, I was prevented from doing. 

In the spring I had but a handful of goods left, ami 
the result of my winter's business was quite satisfactory 



132 

to both Mr. Deschamps and the managers of the Com- 
pany at Mackinaw. 

Before Mr. Deschamps' arrival I abandoned my post 
and went to Chicago, there to await him and the bri- 
gade. It was about a month before they came, at which 
delay I was well pleased, as I passed my time with the 
family of Mr. Kinzie, who, with Dr. Wolcott and the 
officers of the fort, made my visit very pleasant. I 
much regretted leaving, and reluctantly parted from 
my friends, uncertain whether I should ever see them 
again, as my term of service was about expiring. 

I had not settled in my mind what was my duty and 
interest. My inclination led me to my mother, who 
was struggling to support her four young daughters. 
My young brother Christopher had obtained a position 
in the hardware store of Henry King, in New r York, but 
was receiving only his board for his services. 

In my uncertainty what course to pursue I resorted, 
as was my custom, to Mr. Kinzie for advice, and also 
consulted the Indian agent, Dr. Wolcott, who was from 
Middletown, Conn. , and knew my mother well. It was 
now five years since I parted from my loving Christian 
mother and my sisters and brother, and I was just 
reaching my majority, with no knowledge of the world 
outside of the wilderness, and with no business experi- 
ence, excepting in the fur trade. For the past five years 
I had had no opportunity to improve my mind by inter- 
course with refined society excepting during the short 
time I had passed in Chicago and Mackinaw, and while 
at the latter place, more than one-half of my time was 
devoted to hard labor. In my boyhood days I had no 
love for books or study and now that I felt the need of 



L33 

improving my mind, 1 could find no opportunity to do 
so. For the past year 1 had fell more than ever the 
waste of my life and the mortification my ignorance 
caused me. 

Messrs. Kinzie and Wolcotl strongly advised me to 
remain in the only business for winch 1 was tided, and 
to forego the pleasure of seeing my mother and sisters. 
They advised me to remit my earnings and remain in 
the Indian trade under some favorable arrangement with 
the American Fur Company; or, if not with them, with 
Mr. Choteau of St. Louis, who was ready to give me 
employment at a good salary. To abandon a business 
that had cost me rive years to learn, under so many 
privations and exposures, for some other uncertain 
vocation, to fit me for which would consume valuable 
time, seemed to them very inadvisable. "Demand," 
they said, "of the Fur Company a lair consideration for 
your abilities, and if they refuse to give it. then you 
have Mr. Choteau to fall hack upon; and if both fail, 
you are well-enough known to get credit for an outfit 
and take chances on your own account." 

I knew these gentlemen were among my best friend-. 
were disinterested in their advice, and knew better than 
I did the estimation in which Messrs. Ramsay and Crooks 
held me. Our coasting voyage gave me ample time to 
ponder over my situation and determine the course to 
pursue. I had/a great desire to go home, if only for a 
short visit. I had less than one hunded dollars due me, 
had no respectable clothing: my West coat was the same 
one provided for me when 1 left Montreal. It was not 
threadbare, and would have looked quite well on me, 
had the fashion been for buttons half way up the hack 



184 

and sleeves short and tight. Five years before, it looked 
on me as though it was my father's; now it looked like a 
half -grown boy' s. To have fitted myself out in a manner 
to be presentable to the society of Middletown would have 
cost all my accumulated funds. I was forced after due 
consideration to forego the pleasure of seeing those dear 
to me, and before reaching Mackinaw I had concluded 
to remain west — where to be decided when I saw Mr. 
Crooks. I felt certain of a good position in the employ 
of the Choteaus at St. Louis in case Mr. Crooks 1 terms 
were not satisfactory. When I reached Mackinaw I 
was a free man with more than ninety dollars to my 
credit on the books of the company. 

Mr. Crooks desired me to again take charge of pack- 
ing the furs, which I consented to do without any stipu- 
lation as to price, but on the condition that I should be 
at liberty to quit at any time by giving a few days' 
notice; this enabled me to send eighty dollars of my earn- 
ings to my mother. As I was at work earning wages I 
did not hesitate to get from the retail store, then in 
charge of John H. Kinzie, such goods and clothing as I 
desired. 

In about a month a schooner arrived from Cleveland 
loaded with corn, tallow, and other provisions for the 
use of the Company. She was to take to Buffalo a cargo 
of furs, which were ready packed for shipment. 

I had been negotiating for a re-engagement, but had 
declined the offer made by the managers and had 
demanded a larger salary, which had been refused. The 
morning after the arrival of the schooner I surprised 
Mr. Stewart by asking him to fill my place, as I had 
decided to take passage on the schooner for Buffalo, and 



i m 

requested him to fix my allowance, thai I might settle 
my account at the store. I hoped thai 1 should have 
enough left to take me east, and added that perhaps 
Mr. Astor would give me employment in the fur store 
in New York. 

Mr. Stewart seemed much surprised, and said that lie 
thought it was settled that I should remain in the 
employ of the Company. I replied " No. sir; I consider my 
services worth more than you and Mr. Crooks offer me; 
hence I intend to leave you." Before the departure of 
the schooner, however, they accepted my offer, and I 
engaged with the Company for another year. I shipped 
a portion of my goods to Chicago by a vessel hound 
there, and thus reduced the number of boats in the 
brigade to five. 



L824. — PLACED IN CHARGE OF THE ILLINOIS RIVER 
TRADING POSTS. 

Mr.-Deschamps, having become old and worn by long- 
continued service and the hardships to which he had 
been exposed, resigned his position as Superintendent of 
the Illinois River Trading Posts of the American Fur 
Company, and on his recommendation I was appointed 
to succeed him. I now determined to carry out a project 
which I had long urged upon Mr. Deschamps, but 
without success— that of unloading the boats upon their 
arrival at Chicago from Mackinaw, and scuttling them 
in the slough, to prevent their loss by prairie fires, 
until they were needed to reload witli furs for the return 
voyage. 

The goods and furs I proposed to transport to and from 
the Indian hunting grounds on pack horses. In this 
manner the long, tedious, and difficult passage through 
Mud Lake, into and down the Desplaines River, would be 
avoided, and the goods taken directly to the Indians at 
their hunting grounds, instead of having to be carried in 
packs on the backs of the men. During the year 1822, I 

(136) 



137 

had established a direct path or track from Iroquois 

post to Danville, and I now extended it south from 
Danville and north to Chicago, thus fully opening 
"Hubbard's Trail" from Chicago to a point about one 
hundred and fifty miles south of Danville. Along this 
"trail" I established Hading posts forty to fifty miles 
apart. This "trail" became the regularly traveled 
route between Chicago and Danville and points beyond, 
and was designated on the old maps as "Hubbard's 
Trail.' - * 

In the winter of 1833-34 the General Assembly ordered 
that a State road be located from Vincennes to Chicago, 
and that mile-stones be placed thereon, and from 
Danville to Chicago the Commissioners adopted my 
" trail " most of the way, because it was the most direct 
route and on the most favorable ground. Through 
constant use by horses, ponies, and men, the path became 
worn so deeply into the ground that when I last visited 
the vicinity of my old Iroquois post (now called Bunkum), 
in the fall of 18S0, traces of it were still visible, and my 
grand nephew, a little lad of fourteen years, who accom- 
panied me on the trip, jumped out of the carriage and ran 
some distance in the trail where T had walked fifty-eight 
years before. 



*Note. — " Hubbard's Trail " ran through Cook, Will, Kankakee, [roquois, 
and Vermilion Counties, passing the present towns of Blue Island, Home- 
wood, Bloom, Crete, Grant. Momence, Beaverville, [roquois, Hoopeston, and 
Myersville to Danville and southwest through Vermilion and Champaign 

Counties to Bement in Piatt County: thence south through Moultrie and 
Shelby Counties to Blue Point in Effingham County. At Crete, a fence 
has been built around a portion of this - trail,'' to further preserve it as an 
■old landmark and a relic of early roads and early times— II. H. II. 



1 38 



1825. 

The winter of 1825 I passed at my Iroquois post. The 
hunting had been unusually good, and large quantities 
of goods were sold and many fine furs collected. 

In the spring, Mr. John Kinzie got out of goods at 
Chicago, and sent a Mr. Hall to me to request me to go 
to St. Louis by boat for a supply. Mr. Hall was to 
remain and manage my business during my absence. 
Neither Mr. Kinzie nor myself had a boat suitable for 
the journey, but he thought I could arrange for one. 
Mr. Hamlin, of Peoria, had a boat which was well 
adapted to the purpose, and I decided to send Vasseur 
and Portier to Peoria to engage the boat and prepare it 
for the journey, while I should go to Chicago, see Mr. 
Kinzie, and learn from him what goods were required. 

The water was very high, and all the rivers and 
streams had overflowed their banks. Portier could not 
swim, and both men were afraid and refused to go. I 
assured them they would not need to swim, as they 
could head all the streams on the route ; while, on 
the way to Chicago, I should be compelled to cross the 
streams, and probably to swim them. I further told 
them that if they refused to go, I should dock their 
wages and discharge them. In the morning, having 
thought the matter over and becoming ashamed of their 
refusal, they announced themselves as ready to start, 
and did so as soon as they had eaten their breakfasts. 
This was the first and only time they ever refused to 
obey my orders. 

I thought I could go on horseback to the mouth of the 
Iroquois and there swim the Kankakee, and as two 



139 

Indians were bound for that point, I decided to accom- 
pany them. It had frozen during the night, and the 
morning was very cold. We progressed very pleasantly 
until we reached a small stream on the prairie which 
had overflowed its banks, and upon which a new cover- 
ing of ice had formed during the night, leaving running 
water between the two coverings of ice. The upper ice 
was not strong enough for a man to walk on, but the 
Indians laid down and slid themselves across with little 
difficulty. I rode my horse to the stream, and reaching 
forward with my tomahawk broke the ice ahead of him, 
lie walking on the under ice until he reached the middle 
of the stream, when his hind feet broke through, the 
girth gave away, and the saddle slipped off behind carry- 
ing me with it. I fell into the water and was carried by 
the current rapidly down the stream between the upper 
and lower coverings of ice. I made two attempts to gain 
my feet, but the current was so swift and the space s< > 
narrow I could not break through the ice. 

I had about given up all hope, when my hand struck a 
willow bush near the bank and thus arrested my rapid 
progress. At the same time I stood up and bumping the 
ice with my head broke through. The Indians were 
much astonished to see me come up through the ice, and 
gave utterance to their surprise by a peculiar exclamation. 
I recovered my horse and saddle and returned to my 
trading house, with no worse result than wet clothing 
and a slightly bruised head. 

I had just completed a small blackwalnut canoe, and 
with this, and my man Jombeau to assist me, I went to 
the dividing ridge, near where the city of Kankakee now 
stands. The canoe was small and would barely hold us 



140 

both, but we paddled safely down the Iroquois, and the fol- 
lowing day arrived at Kankakee ; there we left the canoe 
and started for Chicago on foot. It was a warm, thawing 
day, and I could scarcely see on account of the mist. I 
had walked a long time and thought I was on my " trail" 
and near Blue Island, when I heard a gun, and soon after 
found an Indian, who had shot a muskrat. This I got 
from him, and it was all Jombeau and I had to eat that 
day and the following one. 

The Indian asked where I was going, and when I told 
him to Chicago, he surprised us by saying that we were 
going the wrong way. We had become completely 
turned around, and were then only about two miles from 
"Yellow Head Point.'' We camped that night on the 
bank of a creek, near where Miller's stock-farm is now 
located. On the third day I reached Chicago, reported 
to Mr. Kinzie, and found that he had started two men in 
a canoe to meet me at Peoria with a list of the goods 
required. 

The day following I started in another canoe with an 
old Frenchman for Peoria, and we got along without 
trouble until we reached Peoria Lake. The wind being- 
fair, I made a small mast and hoisted a blanket for a 
sail ; but the wind being quite strong, the canoe sud- 
denly upset when about a half-mile from shore. My 
companion was terribly frightened, but I made him 
cling to the boat, and soon got him safely to land. 
We were three days in making the trip to Peoria. My 
men had arrived, and the boat was all prepared for the 
trip to St. Louis. They had become much alarmed 
about me, thinking I was drowned, and were greatly 
rejoiced at my arrival. The next day we started for St. 



. 341 

Louis, where we arrived in due season and without 
incident worthy of notice. I bought my goods, delivered 
them at Chicago, and returned as quickly as possible to 
my post at [roquois. 

We were in a state of semi-starvation this spring, 
being compelled to live almost entirely on corn. My 
men were busy splitting rails to fence in a patch of 
ground for a garden, in which I hoped to raise vegetables 
for the following winter's consumption. Meat was 
much desired, but hard to procure. 

I had a large domestic cat that enjoyed the freedom of 
the house and store, and upon packing my winter's col- 
lection of furs for transportation to Chicago, I discov- 
ered that the cat had gnawed the ends of some of them, 
where meat had been left in skinning. I was very much 
vexed at the discovery. Looking up I saw the cat sitting 
in the store window, and taking my rifle, shot him. He 
fell inside, and crawled behind a bale of cloth, where 
he remained until I removed the goods, when I found 
and killed him. I took him out and gave him to the 
Indian cook, telling him that the skin would make him 
a nice tobacco pouch. Just before dinner time I went 
out again and asked the cook what he had done with 
the cat. He answered me by pointing to the kettle in 
which the corn soup was cooking for the men's dinner. 
I laughed, but said nothing. 

When the men came in and smelled the savorv stew 
they were greatly pleased at the thought of having meat 
for dinner. They were always in the habit of selecting 
the choicest bits of meat and sending them to me, and 
they did not forget me on this occasion ; but I declined 
to eat, telling them I did not care for it. and that they 



142 

could eat all of it. They ate it with great relish, and 
after they had finished their dinner, I asked them if 
they knew what they had eaten. They said "yes, wild- 
cat," and were greatly astonished when I told them they 
had devoured our old torn cat. One of them said it made 
no difference, it was good ; the other thought differ- 
ently, and tried hard to rid himself of what he had 
eaten by thrusting his finger down his throat, but with- 
out success ; the old cat would not come up. 



TROUBLE WITH YELLOW HEAD— DANVILLE— WINNEBAGO 

SCARE'' — IN THE OHIO RIVER— KA-NE-KUCK. 

I had now been in the employ of the American Fur 
Company for more than seven years, and for the two 
years after the expiration of my original five years' con- 
tract, I had received the very liberal salary of thirteen 
hundred dollars per year. Being, however, dissatisfied 
with that amount, I had determined to leave its em- 
ploy, when the Company offered me an interest as a 
special partner, which offer I gladly accepted. My la- 
bors were no lighter; in fact, the responsibility seemed 
greater, and I worked harder than ever, realizing that 
on my own efforts and success depended the amount 
of compensation I should receive. My headquarters 
for the winter were at Iroquois post, though l made 
frequent excursions to other points, and was very often 
in Chicago. 

One cold day in March, Isl'7, 1 went to Beaver Creek 
Lake for a hunt. This was a part of the great Kankakee 
marsh, and geese, ducks, and swan were very abundant. 
The fall previous I had hidden a canoe in the vicinity of 
the lake and about thirteen miles from my t rading house, 

(143) 



144 

and this I found with little difficulty. I hunted until 
nearly dark, when, thinking it too late to return home, I 
camped for the night on a small island in the lake. 
There were no trees, but I made a fire with driftwood, 
and having cooked some game for my supper, lay down 
and soon fell asleep. Some time in the night I awoke 
in great pain, and found that my tire had nearly gone out. 
I managed to replenish it, but the pain continued, being- 
most severe in my legs, and by morning it increased to 
such an extent that I could not reach my canoe. About 
ten o'clock an Indian came down the lake and I 
called him and told him of my condition, and with 
his assistance reached the canoe, and finally the main 
shore. I sent the Indian to Iroquois with orders for 
my men to come and bring with them a horse and har- 
ness. On their arrival I had the horse hitched to the 
canoe and myself placed therein, and started in this man- 
ner to ride home. I soon found that I could not stand 
the jarring of the canoe as it was drawn over the rough 
ground, and halted until some better means of travel 
could be devised. I sent back to Iroquois for two more 
men, which necessitated my camping for another 
night. On their arrival they constructed, with poles and 
blankets, a litter upon which they bore me safely and 
quite comfortably home. 

I had a severe attack of inflammatory rheumatism, 
which confined me to the house for three or four weeks, 
and from which I did not fully recover for eighteen 
months. I doctored myself with poultices of elm and 
decoctions of various herbs. 

About six weeks after my attack of rheumatism I 
prepared to abandon my trading house oh the Iroquois 



145 

and remove to Chicago, but was compelled to wait for 

a band of Indians who owed me for goods and who had 

not yet returned from their winter hunting grounds. 

While thus delayed two white men appeared with a pair 

of horses and a wagon loaded with corn, cornmeal, and 

whisky. Hearing that I was waiting for the Indians, 

they decided to wait also and trade them whisky for furs, 

blankets, or anything else of value which the Indians 

might possess. I was unable to walk without crutches, 

and scarcely able to leave my bunk. I knew that if the 

Indians were allowed to have the whisky, trouble would 

ensue, so I sent Noel Vasseur to their camp to ask one 

of the men to come and see me. He soon came, and I 

told him I did not like to have him sell whisky to the 

Indians, and that he had no right to do so, as he had no 

license from the Government to trade with Indians. He 

replied that he had as much light to trade as I had, and 

that he should do as he pleased. I warned him that the 

Indians would become drunk, and would then rob, and 

probably murder them, but he refused to listen to me, 

and returned to bis camp. 

I immediately stationed men to watch for the coming 

of the Indians, and was soon informed that Yellow Head 

and his band were at hand. When they arrived, I had 

a large kettle of corn soup and other food ready for them, 

and as soon as they had eaten, I took them into my 

council room, traded for their furs, collected what they 

owed nu', and after giving each one a gill of whisky, 

dismissed them before the strangers had learned of their 

arrival The Indians soon discovered the camp of the 

1 wo men and commenced trading their blankets and the 

goods they had just bought from me for whisky. I sent 
10 



146 

word to the men to leave, and told them that as soon as 
the Indians got drunk they would rob them of all they 
had sold them, but they would not heed the message. 

As I had anticipated, the Indians soon became drunk, 
and angry because they had nothing more to trade and 
could get no more to drink, and began to take back 
their blankets and goods. The white men became very 
much frightened, and came to me for assistance. I 
refused to interfere, but sent Vasseur and Jacques Jom- 
beau to empty the remaining kegs of whisky, which they 
did. The Indians scooped up the whisky with their 
hand-, and became more and more enraged, and finally 
iiilted Jombeau. and stabbed him in the back, though 
not severely. The Indians got back all they had sold, 
and the white men made their escape with the ho: 
and wagon. The disturbance lasted all night. 

The Indians came to my house and demanded more 
whisky, and were, of course, refused. They all laid 
down and fell asleep, except Yellow Head (a brother-in- 
law of Billy Caldwell >, who came several time- to me. 
coaxing and threatening me, but to no purpose. He 
finally said he would go to my store, break in and take 
as much as he wanted. I said. "Very well, go on." 
and he started for the storehouse. I got up from my 
bunk, took my rifle and thrust it through the paper 
which served for window glass, and as he reached the 
store, I " drew a bead on him." and called to him to go on 
and break in. He changed his mind and walked away. 

I again laid down, and in a few minutes he returned 
very angry, and walking up to my bunk drew a knife and 
attempted to stab ma ; but I was too quick for him, 
seized his arm. and lame as I was, jumped up. took the 



147 

knife away, and pushed him out of the door, where I 
found some squaws who had been attracted by the 
disturbance. Outside the door was a large mortar with 
a heavy iron-wood pestle,- which I used for pounding 
corn. I gave the knife to a squaw, and leaned on one 
crutch against the mortar with my hand on the pestle. 
Yellow Head felt in his leggins for another knife, when 
I said to the squaw, ''Give the old woman a knife.' 1 
She did so, but Yellow Head, looking at the pestle upon 
which my hand rested, and doubtless remembering the 
sudden manner in which I had before disarmed him, 
deemed " discretion the better part of valor." and silently 
departed with the squaws. 

The day following I started for Chicago, leaving one 
of my men, Dominick Bray by name, in charge of the 
place, and to make a garden and plant vegetables for the 
following winter's use. Two or three clays after my 
arrival in Chicago, Bray appeared with the story that 
Yellow Head had returned for revenge. Bray was lying- 
in his bunk, when Yellow Head and two other Indians 
entered the house and leveled their rifles at him. He 
jumped up and ran by them out of the door, pulling it 
shut just as they fired, and the bullets struck the door 
through which he had escaped. Bray ran into the 
woods, caught a horse, and left for Chicago. The 
Indians pillaged the house and store, taking everything 
that had been left. Other Indians warned me that Yel- 
low Head intended to kill me should he ever meet me 
again, but before my return to the Iroquois, he was 
killed in a drunken fight, and thus I was saved from 
further trouble with him. 

J had alivady located at Danville, where I intended in 



148 

the future to make my general headquarters, and a. 
portion of the spring and summer of this year was spent 
at that place. Danville had become quite a settlement,, 
and I had a number of pleasant acquaintances there. 
Mr. Kinzie having resigned his position as Indian trader 
at Chicago, I made application for the place, which, 
however, I did not receive. 

I made my annual trip to Mackinaw, arriving there in 
the month of August, and before my return made a new 
arrangement with the Fur Compan} 7 ", by which I bought 
out its entire interests in Illinois. Business was very poor 
during the year 1827, and in the spring of 1828 I built a 
store at Danville, and permanently established my head- 
quarters there. 

WINNEBAGO SCARE. * 

At the breaking out of the Winnebago war, early in 
July, 1827, Fort Dearborn was without military occupa- 
tion. 

Doctor Alexander Wolcott, Indian agent, had charge 
of the fort, living in the brick building, just within the 
north stockade, previously occupied by the commanding 
officers. The old officers' quarters, built of logs, on the 
west, and within the pickets, were occupied by Russell 
E. Heacock and one other American family, while a 
number of voyageurs with their families were living in 
the soldiers' quarters on the east side of the inclosure. 

The annual payment of the Pottawatomie Indians 
occurred in September of the year 1828. A large body 
of them had assembled, according to custom, to receive 
their annuity. These left after the payment for their 
respective villages, except a portion of Big Foot's band. 

* From statements by Mr. Hubbard in Chicago Historical Series, No. 10. 



149 



The night following the payment, there was a dance 
in the soldiers' barracks, during the progress of which a 
violent storm of wind and rain arose; and about mid- 
night these quarters were struck by lightning and 
totally consumed, together with the storehouse and a 
portion of the guard-house. 

The sleeping inmates of Mr. Kinzie' s house, on the 
opposite bank of the river, were aroused by the cry of 
" fire," from Mrs. Helm, one of their number, who, from 
her window, had seen the flames. On hearing the alarm 
1. with Eobert Kinzie, hastily arose, and, only partially 
dressed, ran to the river. To our dismay, we found the 
canoe, which was used for crossing the river, tilled with 
water ; it had been partially drawn up on the beach and 
became filled by the dashing uf t he waves. Not being able 
to turn it over, and having nothing with which to bail it 
out, we lost no time, but swam the stream. Entering by 
the north gate we saw at a glance the situation. The 
barracks and storehouse being wrapped in flames, we 
directed our energies to the saving of the guard-house, 
the east end of which was on fire. Mr. Kinzie, rolling 
himself in a wet blanket, got upon the roof. The men 
and women, about forty in number, formed a line to the 
river, and with buckets, tubs, and every available utensil, 
passed the water to him ; this was kept up till daylight 
before the flames were subdued, Mr. Kinzie maintaining 
his dangerous position with great fortitude, though his 
hands, face, and portions of his body were severely 
burned. His father, mother, and sister, Mrs. Helm, had 
.meanwhile freed the canoe from water, and crossing in 
it. fell into line with those carrying water. 
Some of the Big Foot band of Indians were present at 



150 

the fire, but merely as spectators, and could not be pre- 
vailed upon to assist ; they all left the next day for their 
homes. The strangeness of their behavior was the sub- 
ject of discussion among us. 

Six or eight days after this event, while at breakfast 
in Mr. Kinzie's house, we heard singing, faintly at first, 
but gradually growing louder as the singers approached. 
Mr. Kinzie recognized the leading voice as that of Bob 
Forsyth, and left the table for the piazza of the house, 
where we all followed. About where Wells street now 
crosses the river, in plain sight from where we stood, 
was a light birch -bark canoe, manned with thirteen men, 
rapidly approaching, the men keeping time with their 
paddles to one of the Canadian boat songs ; it proved to 
be Governor Cass and his secretary, Robert Forsyth, and 
they landed and soon joined us From them we first 
learned of the breaking out of the Winnebago war, and 
the massacre on the Upper Mississippi. Governor Cass 
was at Green Bay by appointment, to hold a treaty with 
the Winnebagoes and Menomonee tribes, who, however, 
did not appear to meet him in council. News of .hostili- 
ties reaching the Governor there, he immediately procured 
a light birch bark canoe, purposely made for speed, 
manned it with ' twelve men at the paddles and a steers. 
mau, and started up the river, making a portage into the 
Wisconsin, then down it and the Mississippi to Jeffer- 
son Barracks below St. Louis. 

Here he persuaded the commanding officer to charter 
a steamer, and embarking troops on it, ascended the Mis- 
sissippi in search of the hostile Indians, and to give aid 
to the troops at Fort Snelling. On reaching the mouth 
of the Illinois River, the Governor ( with his men and 



canoe, having been brought so far on the steamer >, here 
left it, and ascending that stream and the Desplaines, 
passed through Mud Lake into the South Branch of the 
Chicago River, thus reaching Chicago. This trip from 
Green Bay. was performed in about thirteen days,- the 
Governor's party sleeping only five to seven hours, and 
averaging sixty to seventy miles travel each day. On 
the Wisconsin River they passed Winnebago encamp- 
ments without molestation. They did not stop to parley, 
passing rapidly by, singing their boat songs ; the India us 
were so taken by surprise that before they recovered 
from their astonishment, the canoe was out of danger. 
Governor Cass remained at Chicago but a few hours, 
coasting Lake Michigan back to Green Bay. As soon as 
he left, the inhabitants of Chicago assembled for consul- 
tation. Big Foot was suspected of acting in concert 
with the Winnebagoes, as he was known to be friendly 
to them, and many of his band had intermarried with 
that tribe. 

Shaub-e-nee was not here at the payment, his money 
having been drawn for him by his friend, Billy. Caldwell. 
The evening before Governor Cass' visit, however, he was 
in Chicago, and then the guest of Caldwell. At my sug- 
gestion he and Caldwell were engaged to visit Big Foot's 
village (Geneva Lake), and get what information they 
could of the plans of the Winnebagoes, and also learn 
what action Big Foot's band intended taking. They 
left immediately, and on nearing Geneva Lake, arranged 
thai Shaub-e-nee should enter the village alone, Caldwell 
remaining hidden. 

Upon entering the village Shaub-e-nee was made a pris- 
oner, and accused of being a friend of the Americans, 



152 

and a spy. He affected great indignation at these charges, 
and said to Big Foot : "I was not at the payment, but 
was told by my braves that you desired us to join the 
Winnebagoes and make war on the Americans. I think 
the Winnebagoes have been foolish ; alone they cannot 
succeed. So I have come to council with you, hear what 
you have to say, when I will return to' my people and 
report all you tell me ; if they shall then say we will 
join you, I will consent." After talking nearly all night 
they agreed to let him go, provided he was accompanied 
by one of their own number ; to this proposal Shaub-e-nee 
readily consented, though it placed him in a dangerous 
position. His friend Caldwell was waiting for him in 
the outskirts of the village and his presence must not be 
known, as it would endanger both of their lives. Shaub- 
e-nee was equal to the emergency. After leaving in 
company with one of Big Foot's braves, as the place of 
Caldwell's concealment was neared, he commenced com- 
plaining in a loud voice of being suspected and made a 
prisoner, and when quite near, said, " We must have no 
one with us in going to Chicago. Should we meet any 
one of your band or any one else, we must tell them to 
go away ; we must go by ourselves, and get to Chicago 
by noon to-morrow. Kinzie will give us something to 
eat and we can go on next day." 

Caldwell heard and understood the meaning of this, 
and started alone by another route. Strategy was still 
to be used, as Shaub-e-nee desired to report ; so, on Hear- 
ing Chicago he said to his companion, "If Kinzie sees 
you, he will ask why your band did not assist in putting- 
out the fire. Maybe he has heard news of the war and 
is angry with Big Foot ; let us camp here, for our horses 



153 

are very tired. This they did, and after a little the Big- 
Foot brave suggested that Shaub e-nee should go to the 
fort for food and information. This was what he wanted 
to do, and he lost no time in reporting the result of his 
expedition, and procuring food returned to his camp. 
Starting the next morning with his companion for his 
own village; on reaching it he called a council of his 
Indians, who were addressed by Big Foot's emissary ; 
but they declined to take part with the Winnebagoes, 
advising Big Foot to remain neutral. 

On receiving Shaub-e-nee's report, the inhabitants of 
Chicago were greatly excited. Fearing an attack, we 
smbled for consultation, when I suggested sending to 
the Wabash for assistance, and tendered my services as 
messenger. This was at first objected to, on the ground 
that a majority of the men at the fort were in my employ, 
and in case of an attack, no one could manage them or 
enforce their aid but myself. It was, however, decided 
that I should go, as I knew the route and all the settlers. 
An attack would probably not be made until Big Foot's 
embassador had returned with his report ; this would 
give at least two weeks" security, and in that time I 
could, if successful, make the trip and return. I started 
between four and five o'clock in the afternoon, reaching 
my trading house on the Iroquois River by midnight, 
where I changed my horse and went on; it was a dark, 
rainy night. On reaching Sugar Creek I found the 
stream swollen out of its banks, and nay horse refusing to 
i cross, I was obliged to wait till daylight, when I discov- 
ered that a large tree had fallen across the 1 rail, making 
the ford impassable. I swam the stream and went on, 
reaching my friend Mr. Spencer's house at noon, tired out. 



154 

Mr. Spencer started immediately to give the alarm, 
asking for volunteers to meet at Danville the next even- 
ing, with five days' rations. By the day following at 
the hour appointed, -oneJiundred men were organized 
into a company, and appointing a Mr. Morgan, 
an old frontier fighter, as their captain, immediately 
started for Chicago, camping that night on the north 
fork of the Vermilion River. It rained continually, the 
trail was very muddy, and we were obliged to swim 
most of the streams and many of the large sloughs, but 
we still pushed on, reaching Fort Dearborn the seventh 
day after my departure, to the great joy of the waiting- 
people. 

We re- organized, and had a force of about one hun- 
dred and fifty men, Morgan commanding. At the end 
of thirty days, news came of the defeat of the Winne- 
bagoes, and of their treaty with the commanding officer, 
who went from Jefferson Barracks, as before stated. 
Upon hearing this, Morgan disbanded his company, who 
returned to their homes, leaving Fort Dearborn in 
charge of the Indian agent as before. 

Note. — Extract from a letter written by Mr. Hubbard to his sister 

Elizabeth, at Middletowri, Conn. 

Chicago, July 25, 1827. 

You will undoubtedly hear through the medium of the newspapers of 
the hostilities lately commenced by the Winnebago Indians. 

Governor Cass surprised us on the 21st by his arrival, and brought us 
the first intelligence of the depredations committed by that tribe. They 
commenced their hostilities at Prairie du Chien, by killing a family in 
open day. Afterward, a party of one hundred and fifty waylaid a boat 
descending the Mississippi, attacked it with great violence, and after a 
contest of two hours, withdrew. The boat's crew defended themselves 
bravely: their loss was two men killed and six wounded. The Indians 
lost fourteen men killed; the number of wounded was not ascertained. 



1 55 

1 cannot close this communication without adding my 
testimony regarding the character and services of that 
noble Indian chief, Shaub-e-nee. From my first acquaint- 
ance with him, which t>egan hi the fall of 1818, to his 
death, I was impressed with the nobleness of his char- 
acter. Physically, he was as fine a specimen of a man 
as lever saw : tall, well proportioned, strong, and active, 
with a face expressing great strength of mind and good- 
ness of heart. Had he been favored with the advanta- 
ges of education, he might have commanded a high 

The Governor was at the Prairie when the boat arrived, and counted two 
hundred 1 tall holes through her cargo box. All the forces from Si. Louis 
were immediately sent up to the Prairie to join those from the St. Peter's. 
It isthoughl that the forces collected at the Prairie amount to seven thousand 
men, part, of whom are now doubtless in the enemy's country. 

The war-club was in circulation here during the payment, with such 
secresy that not one of us knew anything of it until the Governor arrived. 
when he was informed by a few friendly Indians 

The principal Pottawatomie Indians were sent for. and a council held on 
the 22d, when the Governor informed them of every particular. They 
acknowledged thai messages had been sent to them from the Winnebagoes, 
but assured us of their friendship. We do not apprehend tic least danger 
from them, and those who live on the Illinois River are bringing their 
families into our settlement for protection. The inhabitants of this , 
are all assembled in the fort. We do not think that there is any danger, 
but think it best to be on our guard. 

Tl e Governor left here yesterday for Green Pay. He will send a com- 
pauy of troops on here immediately to take possession of this fort. We 
expect lein in twenty days. I shall not leave here until I see my ti i 
out of all danger. You shall hear from me again shortly; in the mean 
time, do not be uneasy as to my safety. We have rigilanl scouts out, and 
gel notice of any party of Indians before they could surprise us, although I 
do not think there is the leasl danger of their making the attempt. Our 
troops will give them enough toattend to in their own villages, and the war 
can not last more than twenty or thirty days before they are all destroyed. 
Again I beg you will not he uneasy : I am in perfecl safety. 



156 

position among the men of his day. He was remarkable 
for his integrity, of a generous and forgiving nature, 
always hospitable, and until his return from the West, 
a strictly temperate man, not only himself abstaining 
from all intoxicating liquors, but influencing his people 
to do the same. He was ever a friend to the white 
settlers, and should be held by them and their descend- 
ants in greatful remembrance. He had an uncommonly 
retentive memory, and a perfect knowledge of this 
Western country. He would readily draw on the sand 
or bed of ashes, quite a correct map of the whole district 
from the lakes west to the Missouri River, giving gen- 
eral courses of rivers, designating towns and places of 
notoriety, even though he had never seen them. 

It has been reported that Shaub-e-nee said that Tecum- 
seh was killed by Col. R. M. Johnson. This, I am con- 
vinced, is a mistake, for I have often conversed with 
him on that subject, and he invariably said that balls 
were striking all around them ; by one of them Tecumseh 
was killed and fell by his side ; that no one could tell 
who directed the fatal shot, unless it were the person 
who fired it ; that person was claimed to be Johnson. 

It ought to be a matter of regret and mortification to 
us all that our Government so wronged this man, who 
so often periled his own life to save those of the whites, 
by withholding from him the title to the land granted 
him under a solemn treaty, the Commissioners, repre- 
senting our Government, having given him their pledge 
that the land allotted him by the Pottawatomie Nation 
should be guaranteed to him by our Government, and 
he protected in its ownship. He never sold his right to 
the land, but by force was driven from it. When he 



157 

returned from the West to take possession, he found 
that our Government, disregarding his rights, had sold it.* 

The winter of 1831 > 31 was the most severe one I ever ex- 
perienced in the Indian country, and was always remem- 
bered and spoken of by the early settlers as the ' ' winter 
of the big snow.'' I was employed in gathering together 
hogs to drive to Chicago to kill and sell to the sel 1 lers and 
soldiers at Fort Dearborn, a business in which I was then 
regularly engaged . I also had a store at Danville stocked 
with goods suitable for trade with the white settlers of 
that section of country. 

On the seventh of November, 1830, I started out to 
gather up my hogs, which were in small droves at differ- 
ent points on the road. The snow was then about seven 
inches deep, and it continued to fall for four or five days. 
I had men to help me, and wagons containing corn for 

*I have no information as to Mr. Hubbard's life during the years 1828-29 
further than that lie was engaged in a general business at Danville, and 
still retained his trading post at Iroquois. During these yen-- be dealt 
quite extensively in farm produce, and had contracts for furnishing beef 

and pork to the troops stationed at Fort Dearborn. He continued his annual 
visits to Mackinaw, and during his life as a fur trader, made twenty six 
trips to and from that island, coasting Lake Michigan in an open row- 
boat. In 1828 he went on horseback and alone to Detroit without seeing 
any indications of a white settlement until he reached Vpsilanti. at which 
place were a few log bouses. In the winter of 1829 he killed a large 
number of hogs, and not having received the barrels, which were to arrive 
by vessel, he piled the pork up on the river bank, near where Rush 
Street now is, and kept it in that manner until the arrival of barrels in 
the spring. This was the beginning of the packing industry in Chicago. 
During the summer of 1830 be. for the Qrsl time, returned to the Easl 
and visited Ins mother and family at .Middletown, Conn. His sisters Mary 
(afterwards .Mrs. Dr. Clark) and A.bby (afterwards Mrs. A. L. Castleman) 
returned with him to his home in Danville, where they continued to reside 
until they were m rried. — U. E. II. 



158 

the hogs, in which were also our blankets and utensils. 
When we left Beaver Creek marsh the weather had 
changed, and the day was rainy and misty. At dark we 
had reached the Kankakee and camped in a little hollow, 
having left the hogs a mile or so back. It rained hard 
a portion of the night, and then the wind changed and 
it began freezing. The water gradually worked under 
the blanket and buffalo robe in which I had wrapped 
myself, and on attempting to rise I found myself frozen 
fast to the ground, and had much difficulty in freeing 
myself. 

In the morning we gathered the hogs and drove them 
to the hollow in which we had camped, where we left 
them with our horses and started to find BiWj Caldwell, 
who I knew was camped somewhere near Yellow Head 
Point, which was about six miles from Kankakee. Fol- 
lowing up the creek we found him without difficulty, 
and were hospitably received by both Caldwell and his 
wife. Mrs. Caldwell made us some tea, and never in my 
life did I drink such quantities of anything as I did of that. 

We remained at Caldwell's a day and night, when we 
again started the hogs for Chicago, where we arrived in 
about thirty days. The snow was about two feet deep 
on a level and four or five feet in the drifts. I killed and 
delivered my pork, and with empty wagons started on 
my return to Iroquois. Much of the way we were com- 
pelled to cut a passage through the snow and ice, and 
were ten days in making the trip. We had lost some 
of the hogs, and on our return we found one poor brute 
under the snow, where he had managed to subsist upon 
the roots of grass. Of course we killed him to save him 
from the slow torture of starvation. 



159 

It was a bitter cold night when we arrived ;ii the 
Kankakee Eiver, which we found very high and full of 
floating ice, with no possibility of fording it. My wagon 
was one of those heavy, large-box vehicles called a 
"Pennsylvania wagon," the box of which we chinked 
with snow, over which we poured water, which soon 
froze and made it water tight. Into this we put our 
harness, blankets, and utensils, and using it for a boat 
passed safely over, the horses being made .to swim after. 
From this point we progressed at the rate of five to eight 
miles a day, and camped at Beaver Creek the evening of 
the second day thereafter. It had again rained, and all 
the channels and streams were high, and Beaver Creek 
had overflowed its banks, so I determined to go from there 
to Iroquois alone and send a man back with a horse 
and canoe to help get the others across. I cut a dry tree 
for a raft and got onto it, when an Indian, who was one 
of the party, said he wanted, to cross also. I told him it 
was impossible; that the tree would only hold one. and 
he must wait for the canoe which I would send. We 
had a long rope which he proposed to tie to the log, and 
so draw it back after I had crossed, and to this I foolishly 
assented. When I had reached the middle of the stream 
I found I could advance no further, and on looking back 
found the Indian was holding the rope too tight, and I 
called to him to let go. On his doing so, and the log 
being released, it turned suddenly over and threw me into 
the stream. I swam ashore, and when j landed my 
clothes were frozen stiff, and I was near perishing with 
the cold. 

My favorite horse, "Croppy," who had watched my 
departure and progress, was much excited, and neighed, 



160 

pawed the ground, and whinnied so that I decided to allow 
him to come across. I called to Vasseur and told him to get 
my dry neips and moccasins from my saddle-bags, place 
them on the horse's head under the headstall, and let 
him loose. I called to Croppy and he swam across 
to me. 

The bank was precipitous, and I had great difficulty in 
getting him up, he having drifted down below the ford, 
but I finally succeeded. I was sheeted with ice, but by 
alternately riding and running, made the sixteen miles 
to my house in good time, and sent Portier back with a 
horse and canoe loaded with provisions for the men and 
corn for the horses. 

The canoe was used as a sleigh, and in it Portier rode 
and drove. He reached the men late at night and with 
his feet badly frozen. The day following all crossed the 
stream and arrived at home. We had been twenty days 
traveling seventy-five miles. 

I had a small outfit up the Kankakee River, about six 
or eight miles from where ' ' Hubbard's Trail ' ' crossed the 
Kankakee, where two men were located. A day or so 
before the occurence above narrated, one of these men 
started for my trading house, and in attempting to cross 
Beaver Creek, at or near the place where I crossed, was 
drowned. Not returning as soon as he was expected, his 
companion sent an Indian to notify me of his absence, 
and search was made for him, but nothing could be seen 
or heard of him. The following spring an Indian going 
up Beaver Creek in a canoe, found his skeleton lodged in 
the branches of a fallen tree, about ten miles below the 
crossing, to which place it had been carried by the 
current. 



161 

Mr. Hubbard's autobiography ends here. What 
further information in regard to his life, until it became 
a part of the history of Chicago, I have been able to 
obtain, is from sources other than his own recital. For 
many years he kept a diary and noted the particulars of his 
everyday life. This was loaned to Colonel McRoberts, 
and though I have made considerable effort, I have been 
unable to recover it. 

In the spring of 1831 he was married to Miss Elenora 
Berry, of Urbana, Ohio, and on his wedding trip to 
Louisville, Ky., was the hero of the following incident: 
Dr. Fithian, then and now a resident of Danville, 
furnishes the facts in a letter written to Mr. Hubbard in 
May, 1881:. Dr. Fithiau says: 

' ' I write you all I remember relative to your saving 
the life of the child of Mr. Linton, then a merchant of 
Terre Haute, Indiana. 

"You will remember that we both, with our wives, who 
were sisters, took passage at Perrysville, Indiana, early 
in the spring on the steamboat Prairie Queen for Cincin- 
nati, and at Terre Haute, Indiana, Mr. Linton and 
his family came on board bound for the same place. I 
can not now recollect dates ( being over seventy-five years 
of age), but I can recollect vividly the circumstance of 
the child falling overboard while passing up the Ohio 
River, which was very high and filled with floating ice. 
We were sitting out on the guard with other passengers, 
when Mr Linton's little boy slipped overboard and went 
feet foremost into the water. He was dressed in a blouse 
waist, which became filled with air and acted as a buoy, 
preventing him from sinking ; and at this moment of 
writing it seems to me I can almost hear Mr. Linton, as 
li 



162 

his child dropped into the water from the little steam- 
boat, cry out, "Oh! my God, what shall I do ? I cannot 
swim"; and I recollect that instant of time so vividly, 
that, blind as I am now, I see you throw off your coat 
and boots, plunge into the raging river, and swim for 
the drowning child ; and I can recollect very distinctly 
the moment when we saw that you had reached the 
child, had turned upon your back and was floating in the 
water, and in that position held the child elevated in 
your hands. At this moment was the time for thought 
and action with those on the boat. You will recollect 
that there was no yawl nor small craft of any kind at- 
tached to the little steamer, and the excitement increased 
as this fact became known. All realized that something 
must be done speedily or both you and the child would 
be lost. Captain Cummings suggested, as the only thing 
that could be done, turning the steamer down stream 
and overtaking you, running out the walking-plank on 
the side, securing the end remaining on the boat as best 
could be done, so that some one could go out on the plank 
and assist in getting you and the child on board. This 
course was adopted successfully. While the steamer 
was being turned in the stream, and the walking plank 
being adjusted and made secure, blankets were taken to 
the engine-room and thoroughly heated, and all the 
mustard necessary got ready. 

" When we had succeeded in getting you both on board 
again, the child was immediately pronounced dead by 
nearly everyone who was permitted to see him, but being 
taken to the engine-room at once and manipulated indus- 
triously, he ejected a considerable quantity of water, and 
by close watching, stimulating, and application of heat, 



163 

the circulation was soon discernible, and within an hour 
he began to breathe pretty freely. During all this time 
your wife and mine knew nothing of what had happened, 
having been confined in the ladies' cabin by the captain, 
who had filled up the stairs leading from it with trunks, 
so that they could not get down. 

"As a further proof that you are regarded as having 
saved the child's life, I mention that Mr. Linton, father 
of the child, as an evidence of his gratitude to you, in- 
sisted upon changing, and did actually change, the little 
boy's name to that of Gurdon S. Hubbard Linton." 

Dr. Fithian's letter was written in reply to one from 
Mr. Hubbard, called out by the fact that some persons 
had doubted that he could support himself and a child by 
floating on his back in a swift current amid floating ice. 

During Mr. Hubbard's residence in Danville he devoted 
his time mainly to the conduct of his store at that place. 
The fur trade had been nearly abandoned, and but few 
Indians remained on this side of the Mississippi. A 
small band of Kickapoos and a few Pottawatomies were 
all that were left on the eastern side of the State. With 
these Mr. Hubbard retained his friendship, and two boys, 
aged ten and twelve respectively, were taken into his 
family to be taught by his sisters. They remained with 
him several months, and proved to be very intelligent, 
conscientious and affectionate. 

At the head of the band of Kickapoos was a chief 
called the Prophet, whose name, however, was Ka-ne- 
kuck. He was a Christian, and very much devoted to 
the welfare of his tribe, and through his influence the 
band then remaining had become strictly temperate, and 
many of them were professing Christians. 



164 

The following is a translation, made by Mr. Hubbard, 
of a sermon preached by Ka-ne-kuck, and is copied from 
the Illinois Monthly Magazine: 

A KICKAPOO SERMON. 

"This discourse of Ka-ne-kuck, an Indian chief 
of the Kickapoo tribe of Indians, was delivered at 
Danville, Illinois, July 17, 1831. The citizens of the 
town and its vicinity had assembled at a Baptist meet- 
ing, and this Indian, who with a part of his tribe was 
encamped in the neighborhood, and in the habit of 
preaching to his tribe, was informed that the white people 
wished to hear his discourse. He requested G. S. 
Hubbard, Esq., who understands the language, to inter- 
pret for him. The congregation went to the Indian 
encampment early in the day, and before preaching 
commenced in the town. The chief caused mats to be 
spread upon the ground for his white audience to sit 
upon. His Indian brethren were also seated near him ; 
he then commenced and addressed the assembly for 
almost an hour. Mr. Hubbard repeated with great dis- 
tinctness and perspicuity, each sentence, as spoken by the 
chief, and which was accurately written down at the 
time by Solomon Banta, Esq. It is proper to remark, 
that Ka ne-kuck was at one time given to intemperance. 
About four years since, he reformed, and is now esteemed 
a correct, pious, and excellent man. He has acquired an 
astonishing influence over his red brethren, and has in- 
duced all of his particular tribe, supposed to be near two 
hundred, and about one hundred Potawatomies who have 
been inveterate drunkards, to abstain entirely from the 
use of ardent spirits. It is proper further to remark that 



165 

Ka-ne-kuck is called a prophet among the Indians, but is 
not the old prophet, brother to Tecumseh, who is known 
to be not less odious among the Indians than among the 
whites, nor is he related to him. Ka-ne-kuck appears to 
be about forty years of age ; is over the ordinary size ; 
and, although an untutored savage, has much in his 
manner and personal appearance to make him inter- 
esting. He is much attached to the whites, and has 
had his son at school, with a view to give him an 
education. 

The speech now presented for publication derives 
much of its interest from the fact that it is the discourse 
of an uneducated man of the forest, who is believed to 
have done more in his sphere of action in the cause of 
temperance, than any other man has effected, armed 
with all the power which is conferred by learning and 
talent. The fact of the influence attributed to Ka-ne- 
kuck upon this subject, is fully attested by gentlemen 
who are intimately acquainted with these Indians, and 
have known them for many years, and is, therefore, 
entitled to the fullest confidence. 

My Friends : Where are your thoughts to-day? Where were they 
yesterday? Were they fixed upon doing good? or were you drunk, 
tattling, or did anger rest in your hearts? If you have done any 
of these things, your Great Father in heaven knows it. His eye 
is upon you. He always sees you, and will always see you. He 
knows all your deeds. He has knowledge of the smallest transac- 
tions of your lives. Would you not be ashamed if your friends 
knew all your bad thoughts and actions? and are you not ashamed 
that your Great Father knows them, and that He marks them 
nicely ? You would be ashamed of appearing here to-day with 
bloated faces and swelled eyes, occasioned by drunkenness. You 
will one day have to go down into the earth; what will you do then, if 
you have not followed your Great Father's advice, and kept His 



166 

commandments? He has given us a small path; it is hard to 
be followed; He tells you it leads to happiness. 

Some of you are discouraged from following this path, because 
it is difficult to find. You take the broad road that leads to 
misery. But you ought not to be discouraged; mind the book 
he has given for your instruction; attend to its commands, and 
obey them, and each step you take in this narrow path will be 
easier; the way will become smoother, and at the end great will 
be the reward. The broad road some of you choose, is full of 
wide and deep pits: those who follow it are liable to fall into 
those pits ; they are filled with fire for the punishment of all 
wicked and ill men. All professed drunkards, tattlers, liars, and 
meddling bodies are in the broad way; they can never be re- 
ceived into good places; their deeds are dark; they never see 
light. Parents who do not teach their children the difference 
between good and evil, are in the bad road. Your Great Father 
once came into this world. He came but once, and staid but a 
short time; that is the reason the good path is so narrow. 

The bad spirit is with you always; he is abroad upon the face 
of the earth, and traveling in all places; that is the reason why 
the way that leads to misery is so broad. 

The Great Father gave you a good book filled with commands. 
If you follow the commands, you will go into a good place and 
be happy forever; but if you do not keep them, you will go into 
a place prepared for the wicked, and suffer endless days and nights 
of grief. Some of you think you can indulge in drink once, 
and then you resolve to follow the good commands. But are you 
sure, if you indulge once, you can refrain for the time to come? 

Your Great Father sees all you do. Is it not almost certain 
that you will always be repeating bad deeds? You are all sin- 
ners ; you can not be too much on your guard, lest you tread 
out of the right way into the broad road. His eye notices the 
smallest thing, and if you wish to be good, your thoughts must 
be on your Great Father always; He takes pleasure when he sees 
your thoughts are placed on Him. If you would all be good you 
would all travel one road, and there would be but one road, 
and your Great Father would be with you always. But this 
can not be ; every one knows when he is doing good, and if 
he is always conscious of doing good, he will be received by 



167 

the Great Father ; therefore guard with care every step you 
take in your life. One step a day in the narrow road is better 
than fifteen steps a day in the road to ruin. The door of heaven 
is always open, and the Great Father is glad to receive 
His children; those who go there will have happiness without 
end — will see their Great Father, and live with Him, and 
never be without Him. If young folks would but hold as 
fast to the good book as old and crippled people do to their 
canes which support them, there would be no danger of disobey- 
ing its commands. Every day you obey Him the better it is 
for you, and the easier it is for you to follow the good 
path. You must always notice well where you step, for fear 
you may be tempted out of the right path. When you see 
assemblies of amusement, you ought to reflect that to enter 
those may lead you to do things contrary to your Great Father's 
will. 

He has said He will help those who keep His commands ; there- 
fore, you must always notice your hearts ; the heart is the fount- 
ain from which good or evil thoughts flow. You are not mere 
forms, incapable of knowledge, but the Great Father has so made 
you that you may get a knowledge within yourselves, and if you 
are good^ you will always see Him ; if you place your thoughts 
upon Him, He will never desert you ; but they who do not place 
their thoughts upon Him will be deserted — they travel the broad 
road and fall into the pit ; their lot is fixed — they can not touch, 
nor see good ; they will be in endless darkness — they never can 
see their friends, their father, mother, brothers, or sisters ; their 
friends will be always grieving for them — they go where none but 
fools go, such as drunkards, liars, tattlers, and those who treat old 
people ill ; they never can taste good; nothing can mitigate their 
sorrow and the torment they suffer. What will become of those 
wicked men who slight the commands of their Great Father '.' lb; 
gave them a book containing instructions to enlighten them. 
Who made that book V The Great Father made it for their good; 
long ago he made it, that their and our hearts might be strong, 
and that by reading it you might see Him, that you might not 
lose yourselves; along time ago lb- gave this to instruct His 
children, and can there yet be such fools as will not receive 
instruction from so good a Father ? 



168 

The Great Father, by His Son, once came upon earth ; many 
people saw Him ; He came in the form of a man, and staid a short 
time on the earth with His children. He is to come once more, 
when the wicked will not be noticed by Him — a great many hun- 
dreds will be lost ; then we will see who has obeyed His book, 
and kept His commands. If your hearts are fixed on your Great 
Father, He will be pleased ; but if they are not, where will you 
be going ? No supplication will then avail — you will have no 
opportunity to kneel to Him — the time is past, He will not allow 
it ; your friends can not intercede, fear will overwhelm you, you 
will wish to make new resolutions to obey Him, but you can not, 
you will go to the burning pits. 

Your Great Father has implanted in your hearts a knowledge 
of good and evil, and shown you how to obey Him ; if you do not, 
the time will come when you will not see yourselves as you are — 
you will be lost in darkness — all your former wickedness will prey 
upon you. Friends, you all see my brothers (pointing to his 
Indian brethren), they do not drink strong liquors as they once 
did ; they do not shake their fists at you and abuse you ; they do 
not quarrel with each other. Their thoughts are upon their Great 
Father ; they are not liars and tattlers, fond of ridiculing old 
folks and children, as they used to be ; their conduct toward their 
children is different. For a long time they have refrained from the 
bad practices of stealing and drunkenness; their Great Father will 
receive them into His own place, where they will be happy ; they 
will never hunger nor thirst ; they will see their children around 
them ; their Great Father loves their hearts, for they are strong. 
Why, then, should they not love Him ? He tells them He loves 
them ; He gives them an opportunity to know Him ; the Great 
Father has instilled into them a knowledge of good and evil by 
His works ; He has not instructed them by books. He loves His 
children both red and white. I have done." 

On the breaking out of the Black Hawk war in 1832, 
Mr. Hubbard induced Colonel Moore, who commanded the 
Vermilion County militia, to call out his regiment and 
march at once to the scene of hostilities, himself furnish- 
ing provisions, ammunition, and transportation wagons. 



L69 

Three days after the news of the commencement of 
hostilities was received they departed, and on reaching 
Joliet they built a stockade fort, which they garrisoned 
with one company, and proceeded to East Du Page, where 
a similar defense was constructed and garrisoned, and 
the remainder of the regiment marched to Starved Rock, 
where they were disbanded. Mr. Hubbard then joined a 
■company of scouts for sixty days, and served in that 
capacity until the company was disbanded. While con- 
nected with Colonel Moore's regiment he commanded the 
advance, and found and buried the body of Rev. Adam 
Payne, who had been murdered by the Indians. 

Mr. Hubbard represented Vermilion County in the 
eighth General Assembly, which convened December 3, 
1832, and adjourned March 2, 1833. During this session 
he introduced a bill for the construction of the Illinois 
& Michigan Canal, which passed the house, but was 
defeated in the senate. He then substituted a bill for a 
railroad, which was also defeated in the senate by the 
casting vote of the presiding officer. He attended every 
session of the Legislature thereafter to urge the passage 
of a canal bill, until the bill was finally passed in 1835-36. 

Mr. Hubbard, Wm. F. Thornton, and Wm. B. Archer 
were appointed by Governor Duncan the first board of 
Canal Commissioners, in 1835. They served until 1841, 
when their successors were elected by the Legislature 
under a new law which deprived the Governor of the 
appointive power. 

On July 4, 1836, the commencement of the canal was 
celebrated, and Mr. Hubbard dug the first spadeful of 
earth. 

In 1834 he moved from Danville to Chicago and took 



170 

up his permanent residence there. He erected, at the 
corner of La Salle and South Water streets, the first 
large brick building in Chicago, which was called by the 
inhabitants "Hubbard's Folly," because of its size and 
the permanent manner of its construction. 

By act of the Legislature, February 11, 1835, the 
"Town of Chicago" was incorporated, with Gnrdon S. 
Hubbard, John H. Kinzie, Ebenezer Goodrich, John K. 
Boyer, and John S. C. Hogan as its first trustees. It 
comprised all the territory covered by sections 9 and 16, 
north and south fractional section 10, and fractional 
section 15, all in town 39 north, range 14 east of the 
third principal meridian; "provided that the authority 
of the Board of Trustees of the said town of Chicago 
shall not extend over the south fractional section 10 
until the same shall cease to be occupied by the United 
States."* 

He was also a director of the Chicago branch of the 
State Bank of Illinois. He was one of the incorporators 
of the Chicago Hydraulic Company, which built its 
works at the foot of Lake street, and supplied the south 
and a part of the west side with water until its 
franchises were purchased by the city in 1852. In 1818 
he was one of the organizers of the Chicago Board of 
Trade. 

In 1836 he sold out his mercantile business and built 
a warehouse fronting on Kinzie street and the river, and 
organized the firm of Hubbard & Co. — Henry G. Hub- 
bard and Elijah K. Hubbard being his partners. 

This firm embarked largely in the forwarding and 
commission business, and became interested in a great 

*From report of Commissioner of Public Works, Dec. 31, 1880. 



171 

number of vessels and steamers forming the "Eagle 
Line," between Buffalo and the upper lakes. In this 
year he wrote for the JEtna Insurance Company the 
first policy ever issued in Chicago, and continued as agent 
of that and other companies until 1S68. The previous 
year he had gone more extensively into the packing busi- 
ness, and had cut up and packed thirty-five hundred hogs. 
This business he continued, and was for many years 
known as the largest packer in the West. In 1868 his 
large packing house was destroyed by fire, and he then 
abandoned the business. 

In later years, in connection with A. T. Spencer, he 
established a line of steamers to Lake Superior, among 
which were the Superior and Lady Elgin. The Supe- 
rior was lost on the rocks in Lake Superior, and the loss 
of the Lady Elgin is familiar history. After the loss of 
his packing house he engaged in the direct importation 
of tea from China, and organized a company for that 
purpose. The great fire of October 9, 1871, destroyed his 
business, burned his property, and crippled him finan- 
cially, and from that time he retired from active business 
life. 

The Hon. Grant Goodrich, in ;i memorial read before 
the Chicago Historical Society, says of him : 

"There are few of the numerous veins of commerce 
and wealth-producing industries that draw to this pul- 
sating heart of the great West that boundless agricult- 
ural and mineral wealth, which through iron arteries and 
watercrafl is distributed to half a world, that have not 
felt the inspiration of his genius, and been quickened by 
his enterprise and energy. The assertion that in the 
progress of events, one who has readied the ordinary 



172 

limit of human life in this age has lived longer than the 
oldest antediluvian, is surely verified in the life of Mr. 
Hubbard. What marvelous transformation he wit- 
nessed. When he reached Mackinaw at scarce sixteen 
years of age, save in the vicinity of Detroit, Michigan, 
the northern part of Indiana and Illinois, all Wisconsin 
and the limitless West which lies beyond — except here 
and there a trading post— was an unbroken wilderness, 
pathless, except by lakes and rivers and the narrow trail 
of the Indian and trapper. Sixty-eight years have passed, 
and what a change ! It challenges all historic parallel. 
Before the march of civilization the wild Indian has dis- 
appeared, or been driven toward the setting sun ; the 
dark forests and prairie, garden fields where he roved in 
the pride of undisputed dominion, have been transformed 
into harvest fields, dotted with villages and cities, some 
of them crowded with hundreds of thousands of inhabit- 
ants, where the hum of varied industry is never silent, 
and the smoke of forges and factories darkens the sky. 
"The canoe and open boat have given place to thou- 
sand-ton vessels, and steamers of twice that burden. The 
narrow trails over which the Indian trotted his pony, 
are traversed or crossed by roads of iron, on which iron 
horses rush along with the speed of the wind. The 
amazing change may be more strikingly realized when 
we remember that while within the present limits of 
Cook County, there were then only three dwellings of 
white men outside of the garrison inclosure, there now 
dwell more than eight hundred thousand people, and 
that the seat of political power in this great Nation has 
been transferred to the valley of the Mississippi ; that it 
has made it possible to scale the heights of the Rocky 



173 

Mountains with railroads, and bring the Atlantic and 
Pacific Oceans into near neighborhood, and bind the East 
and West together with bands of steel. 

" History has made immortal the names and achieve- 
ments of men who have subdued, or founded, states and 
empires by force and sanguinary war. Do not these 
early pioneers, who, armed with the arts of peace, 
bravely met the dangers and endured the toils necessary 
to subjugate the great western wilderness to the abodes 
of peace and blessings of education, enlightened free- 
dom, and the elevating appliances of civilization, merit 
equal admiration and gratitude as lasting % 

''Those who believe that in the world's coming history 
its crowned heroes and benefactors are to be those who 
win the bloodless victories of peace, and by acts of self- 
sacrifice and beneficence scatter widest the blessings of 
Christian civilization, will hold these men, and Grurdon S. 
Hubbard as a prince among them, in highest honor and 
esteem." 

We turn now to the personal, social, and private life 
of Mr Hubbard. While perfection can be claimed for no 
man, he appears to have borne himself, in all the duties 
pertaining to these relations, in a manner deserving 
commendation and respect. He was married in 1831 to 
Miss Elenora Berry, of Ohio, who died in Chicago in 1838, 
six days after the birth of their son. In 1813 he was 
married to Miss Mary Ann Hubbard, of Chicago, who, 
through the years of his helpless blindness, attended upon 
his every want with the constant devotion of a true 
and loving wife. 

In the discharge of his filial and fraternal obligations he 
set an example of highest admiration. As before stated, 



174 

during his service with the Fur Company he gave eighty 
dollars a year of his wages of one hundred and twenty 
dollars, toward the maintenance of his mother and 
dependent sisters. Afterwards, when his income was 
increased, enlarged their allowance, and until his mother 
died was their main support, which was continued to his 
sisters down to his death. To provide against all con- 
tingencies, he executed a deed of trust, some twenty years 
ago, and also by his last will, provided for their support 
during life. Socially, he was genial, sympathetic, and 
affable. His remarkable life and experiences made him 
interesting and instructive. He was thoughtfully care- 
ful of the feelings, and charitable to the faults, of others. 
Firm in his convictions and principles, but never intol- 
erant, he was always the dignified and courteous 
gentleman. As a neighbor he was kind, and as a friend 
faithful and confiding. His heart overflowed with sym- 
pathy for the poor and unfortunate, and his hand was 
always open for their relief. As a husband he was care- 
fully tender, loving and true ; as a parent affectionate, 
generous, and indulgent. As a citizen he was patriotic and 
earnest in the promotion of what he believed for the best 
interests of his country. These worthy traits of charac- 
ter are the more remarkable, when we remember that 
his youth and early manhood were spent away from 
parental restraints, and amidst scenes of temptation and 
influences so adverse to strict morals and Christian 
obligations. But the religious principles imbibed from 
his mother's lips and the schools of those early days, 
seemed to have exercised a controlling influence over 
him. 

I think it due him I should give the following extracts 



175 

from letters of Ramsey Crooks, the active head of the 
American Fur Company, and one from Mr. Stewart, the 
Secretary : 

Under date of April, 1820, Mr. Crooks says : "Gurdon 
has thus far behaved himself in an exemplary manner 
for one of his age." 

In a letter of March, 1826, urging Mrs. Hubbard to 
visit her son, he says : " You will see him at his daily 
duties, and you will see what will gladden the heart of a 
Christian mother, how faithfully he perforins his daily 
duties, how much he is loved and respected by his em- 
ployers and friends." 

August 3, 1821, Mr. Stewart writes her : "He spends 
his winters with an old gentleman of finished education 
and correct gentlemanly manners. His account of your 
son is as flattering as a fond mother could wish. * * 
He is strictly sober, and, I believe, a great economist. 
I feel that I state the truth when I tell you I think him 
exempt from the vices which too frequently attend youth 
of his age." These commendations speak for them- 
selves. In his church associations he was an Episcopalian. 
He was one of those who organized St. James Episcopal 
Church, the first of that denomination existing in 
Chicago, and of which he subsequently became a 
communicant. 

In January, L883, lie was taken with chills, and in the 
following May lost the sight of his left eye, from which 
time he suffered from blood poisoning and frequent 
abscesses, and from almost constant pains in his eyes 
and neck. In the succeeding April, the eye was removed, 
and, though eighty-two years old, without anesthetics 
of any kind, or any one to hold his hands; the steady 



176 

nerve and self control that so distinguished him in his 
earlier years, enabled him simply to lie down and have 
his eye cut out. In July, 1885, the sight of his remain- 
ing eye was extinguished, lea\ ing him in the horrors of 
total darkness ; about one year ago, his remaining eye 
was also removed, greatly relieving him from torturing 
pains. 

Such a calamity and rayless darkness can neither be 
imagined nor described. But in him, the fruits of the 
discipline of suffering were beautifully exhibited in 
uncomplaining submission to the Divine will, and patient 
endurance of his affliction, through all the long night of 
his blindness ; in his grateful sense of the sympathy of 
friends, and tender thankfulness for the helpful care and 
attentions of his loved ones. It was manifest that, while 
material things were excluded from his sight, his nature 
was more fully conformed and assimilated to that of his 
Divine Redeemer, by the contemplation of the spiritual 
and unseen ; and on the 14th day of September, 1886, 
at the age of eighty-four years, he fell peacefully to sleep 
with the full assurance he would awaken into supernal 
light, with restored and immortal vision." 



179 



underwriters' memoriae. 

Chicago, October 19, 1886. 

Mrs. Gurdon S. Hubbard — Dear Madame: I hand you here- 
with a copy of minute adopted by the Chicago Fire Under- 
writers' Association, at a meeting held September 27, last, 
expressive of the appreciation in which the life and services of 
Mr. Hubbard are held by its members. 

It is hardly necessary for me to assure you that the minute 
expresses a genuine feeling of sorrow that a long and useful life 
has come to an end. Such sorrow, however, is tempered by the 
reflection that he, whose energy and integrity have been among 
the motives the result of which has been the mighty city among 
whose citizens we are proud to be reckoned, has gone to the 
reward that awaits the just in the "City of our God." 
I am, your obedient servant, 

R. N. Trimingiiam, Secretary. 



MEMORIAL. 

At a special meeting of the Chicago Fire Underwriters' 
Association, held September 27. 1886, the following 
minute was unanimously adopted: 

Gurdon S. Hubbard, the oldest resident of Chicago, 
and the first of its underwriters, was born at Windsor, 
Vermont, August 22, 1802, and died September 14, 
1886. It is eminently proper that the representatives of 
the underwriting interests of to-day should meet to 
commemorate in some fitting words his life and death. 

Mr. Hubbard came to Chicago as a fur trader nearly 
seventy years ago. He found a fort and an Indian 
trading post. Before he died the trading post had grown 
to be the fourth city in the United States. In his life 
he saw the Indian give place to the settler, the fort suc- 
ceeded by the village, the village by the town, and the 
town by a great city.. He saw the wilderness change 
into the wealth-producing farms and the comfortable 
homes of millions of people, and the fur barter of a few 
Indians at the mouth of the Chicago River changed into 
the mighty commerce of a city of six hundred thousand 
inhabitants. Mr. Hubbard did not sit supinely and 

(180) 



181 

watch this growth content to reap the harvest without 
being himself an active laborer in the field. He not only- 
shared in the commercial enterprises that made the city 
what it is, but he was the originator and the pioneer in 
many of the most important of them. He was one of 
the first and the most active as a merchant in developing 
trade with the surrounding country; he fostered the 
transportation interests of the lakes and was himself at 
one time a large shipowner; he was one of the first, if 
not the first, to establish the industry, now so impor- 
tant, of packing cattle and hogs, and he was the first 
representative of that great interest which goes hand in 
hand with commerce and manufacture, protecting and 
sustaining them; the interest of which we assembled 
here are the present representatives. 

Mr. Hubbard wrote the first insurance policy ever 
written in Chicago, fifty years ago, for the iEtna Insu- 
rance Company, of Hartford. He continued to repre- 
sent the ^Etna and other insurance companies many 
years after this, at first by himself, and later in partner- 
ship with the late Charles H. Hunt, and his name is closely 
associated with both the fire and the marine insurance 
transactions of those early days. Throughout his entire 
career as merchant, manufacturer, and underwriter, Mr. 
Hubbard maintained a course marked by so much integ- 
rity, that we of a later generation may well record as 
we do in these few words our appreciation of his life and 
our respect for his character. Therefore, 

Be it Resolved, That in the death of Mr. Hubbard we 
feel not only the loss of a true friend, a useful and hon- 
orable citizen, a Christian gentleman, but of the father 
of our profession in this city. 



182 

Resolved, That the association do extend our heartfelt 
sympathies to the family, and as they mourn the loss of 
a kind husband and father, we also mourn the loss of a 
true man, one whose many years of upright and faithful 
leadership commanded not only our respect and confi- 
dence, but our love and admiration, one whose entire 
life-record is a golden legacy beyond all price. 

Resolved, That this minute be spread on our records, 
and a copy be forwarded to the family of the deceased. 

S. M. Moore, 
Geo. C. Clarke, 
Edward M. Teall, 
Wm. E. Eice, 
Henry H. Brown, 

Committee. 
Charles W. Drew, President. 
R. N. Trimingham, Secretary. 



TRIBUTE OF REV. G. S. F. SAVAGE, D. D. 

In the recent death of Mr. Gurdon S. Hubbard, at the ripe age 
of eighty-four years, there passed away not only the oldest settler 
of Chicago, but a man who has filled a large and honorable place 
from the beginning in her wonderful history. Well-merited 
tributes have been paid by the public press to his character and 
achievements as a citizen, a business man, and a friend. But 
there is one aspect of his character, especially developed in the 
closing years of his eventful life, which deserves a more distinct 
recognition, viz.: his strong Christian faith and trust in the Lord 
Jesus Christ as his personal Savior; his love of the Bible as the 
inspired Word of his heavenly Father, and his uncomplaining 
submission to God's will under the severe discipline of his provi- 
dence. 



183 

In middle life he became a professed Christian — a member of 
the Protestant Episcopal church, whose services he greatly prized. 
He was one of the founders and officers of the first Episcopal 
church established in Chicago — the St. James — and a liberal sup- 
porter of the same And it was with much pain and large sacri- 
fice to himself that he left her communion, when dissatisfied with 
what he believed to be the unscriptural and ritualistic doctrines 
and practices which had crept into the church of his love. Yet, 
as a matter of principle, when the time came for action, he did not 
hesitate to leave it, and join the then small and despised Reformed 
Episcopal church, cheerfully giving his influence, counsel, and 
pecuniary aid to this new and struggling organization. 

Uurino- all those years of intensely active business life he 
maintained a Christian character above reproach. But it was in 
the closing years of his life, when the infirmities of age, and 
disease, and blindness laid him aside from his accustomed activi- 
ties, that there was such a marked development of Christian 
character, and of a rich Christian experience, as attracted the 
special attention of friends, and became worthy of special note. 
Amid all the weaknesses, total blindness, and sufferings of the 
last two years of his life he did not lose his interest in passing 
events at home, or abroad; he wanted to know the news and the 
religious intelligence which the daily and weekly press furnished. 
He listened with pleasure to the reading of many books of his- 
tory, biography, and general literature, and especially to devo- 
tional religious books, but he would readily turn from all these to 
the Bible, and was not satisfied unless several chapters were read 
to him daily. His love for the Bible was remarkable. He fed 
with delight upon its truths. He found in its teachings that 
which brought a peace, a comfort, a blessedness to his soul 
which he found nowhere else. The Lord Jesus Christ was to him 
a present and personal helper and friend, enabling him to bear 
cheerfully and uncomplainingly his infirmities and pains. Family 
worship he greatly enjoyed. Prayer to him was a reality and was 
often upon his lips; and nothing gave him more delight than to 
have a Christian friend come and pray with him, and converse 
upon religious themes. His sweet patience and submission to all 
God's dealings with him, revealed the depth and strength of his 
Christian character and attainments. 



184 

The Sabbath morning before his death, having had a night of 
suffering, he talked with his wife calmly and clearly about what 
she should do, expressing in fervent, loving words his appreciation 
of the tender care which she had given him; reminding her that it 
was time for family prayers, and when the Scriptures were read, 
the hymn, " My faith looks up to thee," was sung and prayer 
offered, he, with feeble and broken accents, joined in repeating 
the Lord's Prayer. After that there was read to him the chapters 
relating to the three men who were cast into that fiery furnace, 
and the Son of God walking with them — when he spoke of his 
being in the furnace and that Jesus would be with him, because 
he trusted in him. 

He loved life, but met death without fear or anxiety, " knowing 
whom he had believed, and that he was able to keep that com- 
mitted unto him against that day." "He walked with God and 
was not, for God took him." 

G. S. F. Savage. 



LETTER FROM MISS DRYER. 

My Dear Mrs. Hubbard : Though day by day we " walk 
through the valley of the shadow of death, and grow weary trying 
to fear no evil," we find it hard to let our friends pass on without 
us into the unclouded light and promised rest of heaven. In the 
home where we have loved them, we want to keep them ; and if we 
could, we certainly would deliver them from the power of the 
grave, and follow them on to gaze enraptured into the face of our 
Lord. But impenetrable mysteries divide us and them, and only 
faith finds consolation for us, in the fact that Jesus does not lose 
sight of those He loves. " Father, I will that they also, whom 
thou hast given me, be with me where I am," that comforts us ! 
"He'll not be in glory and leave us behind." 

Dear Mr. Hubbard has gone to be " forever with the Lord." 
The news surprised me. I thought he would stay with you 
longer. Your untiring, tender care of him, through these last, 
long months of dependence and child-like trust, filled his life with 
so much comfort that I, with others, have thought he might live 
months or even years longer ; and his marvelous endurance, his 
remarkable recuperation, his unflinching fortitude, and his patient 



185 

resignation so stimulated our loving- hopes that his departure 
finds us unprepared, even while he was ready and waiting. 

Dear old man ! so sweetly submissive to God, in his sore 
afflictions ! Without a murmur he parted with those beautiful 
far-seeing eyes — eyes that had scanned the horizon of Lake 
Michigan and these wild prairies before Chicago thought of anchor- 
ing here — eyes for a long lifetime used to look right on and on for 
some new enterprise, some new good ; and when, after long suf- 
fering, he saw their light flicker and fade out, he never stopped 
looking, but right on to the celestial heights whence cometh ever- 
lasting help, he, with the sweetest simplicity <>i' faith, still looked 
and endured, as seeing Him who is invisible. 

I count it among my most precious privileges to have been so 
much in your family for more than a decade, and I shall always 
remember Mr. Hubbard's growing fondness for the word of God 
and for prayer, and his interest in our Christian work. So much 
loving kindness ; so many good words ; such hearty, pleasant 
welcomes; for how much shall I cherish his memory and antici- 
pate meeting him in heaven. 

In Christian love and hope, 

At Kilbourn, Wis., Sept. 23, 1886. Emma Dryei:. 



(Extracts from Memorial of Sons of Vermont.) 

GURDON SALTONSTALL HUBBARD. 
Mr. Hubbard's life is remarkable for its covering the 
time in which Illinois has grown from an unimportant 
Territory into the fourth State of the Union in wealth 
and population ; in which Chicago has grown from a 
mere military station into the great city of the West ; 
and in these changes, Mr. Hubbard had an active and 
honorable part, passing away while held in high esteem 
by his fellow citizens for his adventurous and useful 
career. Of all the Sons of Vermont, none has done more 
for the State of his adoption than this man has done for 
Illinois. 



186 



In these sketches of his younger days, we may well 
introduce the personality of Mr. Hubbard. He was, 
when grown, of full height and of muscular build ; his 
nose was prominent, mouth large, lips firmly set, features 
irregular, expression serious, but not stern. He had 
great strength and tenacity. 

Promptitude and courage were equally his characteris- 
tics. When Fort Dearborn was set on fire he swam the 
river to get to it, as no canoe was ready. On the out- 
break of the Winnebago war of 1827, it was desired to 
send a messenger to the settlements south of Chicago and 
un the east side of the State. Mr. Hubbard was the vol- 
unteer messenger, and worked through great dangers 
and difficulties. Returning from Danville with fifty 
men, he came to the Vermilion River, which was 
swollen with rains, full, wide, and swift. The horses 
were driven into the stream to swim over, but only made 
a circuit and returned. Mr. Hubbard threw off his coat 
and mounted " Old Charley," a stout, steady, horse, 
which the rest might be induced to follow, and rode in, 
but in midstream Old Charley became unmanageable ; 
then Mr. Hubbard threw himself off on the upper side, 
caught the horse by the mane, and, swimming with his 
free hand, guided the animal across, while his friends 
were fearful he would be washed under the horse or be 

struck by its hoofs, and so lose his life. 

* % v- * *- % * % 

Mr. Hubbard finally settled in Chicago in 1833 or 1834. 

His business lay in many places at once, but now was 

centered here. From this time on, his career was not 

among dangers to life and limb, and his adventures were 



187 

the peaceful ones of commerce. But as he had been the 
pioneer trader, he was still one of the foremost in all new 
things. 

While busy for the public in various ways he was 
making money for himself, and using it generously. 
The land speculations of 1836-37 he turned to good ac- 
count. His losses in the great fire, when he was past the 
age of active effort to retrieve his fortunes, were great, 
but he still retained a handsome competence, at least. 
He lived in a plain, unostentatious way, from his natural 
tastes, and he was a familiar figure at the meetings of 
the Historical Society and of the Old Settlers. In poli- 
tics he was a Whig, and afterwards a Republican. 

Lately Mr. Hubbard's health failed, both by age and 
by disease. Three years ago, an abscess compelled the 
removal of one eye ; a year later the other was removed. 
Then the old pioneer, in the midst of the great city he had 
helped to build, weak as a child and helpless as an infant, 
sat two years in darkness, bearing his lot patiently, and 
waiting the stroke of death, which fell at last all gently 
on his hoary head. 

(From Hie Chicago Time-, September 18, 1886.) 
GURDON S. HUBBARD'S FUNERAL. 

IMPRESSIVE SERVICES, PARTICIPATED IN BY NEARLY ALL THE 
REMAINING PIONEERS OF CHICAGO. 

The remains of Gurdon S. Hubbard, the pioneer, were consigned 
to their last resting place yesterday. The funeral, while quiet 

and unostentatious, was a notable one-in many res] ts. In the 

morning the remains lay in the front parlor of the Hubbard resi- 
dence, No. 143 Locust street. 



188 

The furneral services took place at the New England Congre- 
gational Church, Delaware place and Dearborn avenue. From 
the moment the doors were opened, a ceaseless stream of people 
entered, and at 2 o'clock every seat except those reserved for the 
mourners was occupied. The funeral party was met at the door by 
Rev. J. D. Wilson, pastor of St. John's Reformed Episcopal Church, 
of which Mr. Hubbard was a member. The pall-bearers were 
Ex-Governor William Bross, Judge John D. Caton, General Buck- 
ingham, Colonel John I. Bennett, G. M. Higginson, J. McGregor 
Adams, T. C. Dousman, and O. B. Green. The clergyman led 
the procession down the centre aisle, reciting in solemn tones the 
burial service of the Reformed Episcopal Church, beginning " I 
am the resurrection," etc., the congregation rising to their feet 
and the organ sending forth low, mournful notes, which added to 
the solemnity of the occasion. 

The scene was one which must have made a strange and lasting 
impression upon those who were present. The congregation was an 
assemblage such as has seldom gathered in this or any other city. 
It was a sea of white heads, representing the men who came to 
Chicago when there was no Chicago, and who have lived to see 
the results of the work they began. Many of them were accompa- 
nied by their equally venerable wives. Other patriarchs sat alone, 
their helpmeets existing in memory only. With bowed heads 
they sat, their faces wearing an expression indicating that they 
were moved by deeper emotions than those occasioned by the loss 
of a friend and neighbor. Every mind must have felt an awaken- 
ing of memories of early days, and of events which constitute the 
history of Chicago. On the platform behind the pulpit, sat Rev. 
Dr. R. W. Patterson, also an early settler, and the venerable Rev. 
Dr. Bascom, a Chicagoan since the thirties, who performed the 
marriage ceremony in 1843 which united the deceased and the 
widow who survives him. 

When the reading of the service was concluded, the choir 
chanted the first twelve verses of the Ninetieth Psalm. Rev. Dr. 
Wilson read from the Scriptures, after which Rev. Dr. Patterson 
offered a fervent prayer. The choir followed by singing the hymn 
" Rock of Ages." Then Dr. Bascom briefly eulogized the 
deceased. He gave only an outline of his adventurous career, 
mentioning merely enough to quicken the memory of his hearers 



189 

as to events most of them were familiar with. He laid stress upon 
the skill and fidelity of Mr. Hubbard, which eminently fitted him 
for the foundation of those business enterprises which have been 
the secret of the wonderful success of this city ; his unfailing 
integrity, his trustworthiness and reliability. Dr. Bascom said 
that in all his years of residence in Chicago he had never heard 
one word impeaching Mr. Hubbard's honesty. He also eulogized 
him for his sense of justice and generosity, and his zeal as a 
churchman, having identified himself with the Reformed Episcopal 
Church at its formation, and remained a member until the time 
of his death. The speaker also gave an account of the last days 
and death of the deceased, remarking that those who mourned his 
death could look back with unspeakable satisfaction upon the fact 
that the manner of his death was peaceful. He was perfectly 
resigned, for months calmly awaiting the summons. During this 
period he was sustained by Christian hope, and enjoyed the rest 
and peace that he found at last, after an honorable and useful life. 
Mr. Bascom concluded by referring briefly to the lesson to be 
drawn from the demise of Mr. Hubbard, especially by most of 
those who heard him, whose advanced ages lent emphasis to it. 

The closing prayer was offered by Rev. Arthur Little. After 
the benediction had been pronounced, the lid of the casket was 
removed, and the venerable men and women filed slowly by, to 
view for the last time the features of the deceased. There were 
very few who did not avail themselves of the privilege. The face 
of the departed wore a peaceful and almost life-like expression. 
Time had left few traces of its ravages. The face was that of a 
much younger and heartier man than many of those who gazed upon 
it. In a few minutes the lid of the casket was again finally closed, 
and the funeral procession retraced its steps. The interment was 
at Graceland, which was reached by carriages. There were no 
services at the cemetery other than the offering of a prayer by 
Rev. Arthur Little as the remains were consigned to the earth. 

























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